


In Another Life, Perhaps

by hiei700



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: AU collection, Android and Human AU, Cool shapeshifting dragon beings, Dragon and Prince AU, Fashion Designer AU, M/M, Modern AU, Vampire AU, individual tags for each story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6969826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiei700/pseuds/hiei700
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe, perhaps someday it'll be you and I, two random people, and we'll be meeting once again for the first time, and I'll hate it just as much if not more as the first day I met you in this life.<br/>Basically a collection of AUs.  There will be warnings for each chapter in the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dragon and Prince

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings for this chapter. Enjoy.

Allen Walker had been born into this world a healthy young boy.  He was like any other child; however, being born to a royal family made him quite significant.  

  
  


His life was happy at first; he lived under his father, King Mana, and the Queen.  The two of them took great care of him, and he was granted nearly everything he wished for.  

  
  


Time passed, as it always has and always will, and Mana had died, defending Allen from an upset horse that he was trying to mount.  The queen mourned and mourned, and Allen felt a pang of pain with each tear that fell.  The little droplets collected upon the marble floor of his father's personal mosque and formed the puddle of guilt that only grew with every year the prince lived.  

  
  


Allen was only twelve when, lost to a deep depression and a sea of confusing memories, he rode away from the castle, aiming to seek refuge from some unknown demon.  His goal was the forest, but when he made it, he realized that it was a fruitless endeavor.  

  
  


The haunting voice was still there, behind him, always  _ just _ behind him; over his shoulder, it whispered and giggled.  Life was hell for the small child, but when his horse suddenly stood on its hind legs, flailing its front hooves in the air, Allen had come face to face with someone who would change his life.  

  
  


Even though the memory was so vivid, he could have written it off as an illusion if it wasn't for the physical reminders this cloaked wizard left behind.

  
  


Allen was thirteen when his mother decided he could no longer leave the castle.  The townsfolk were reacting too negatively to his curses: his left eye, his left arm; both were wrought with signs of the demonic beast he had encountered, yet no priest could fix him.  His hair grew lighter and lighter, his eyes duller and duller.  Allen was being lost, and his mother could do nothing but watch him float away.  Her hands were tied, but she did everything she could to make his life easier.  He was, after all, her son.  More importantly, he was the living proof that Mana existed and was a large part of her life.  She treasured that.

  
  


Allen was 15 when he made his first real friend.  If you don't count his pet bird, Timcanpy, this redhead was the only companion he had in the world.  

  
  


Lavi was 18 when they met, and he had come to the castle to study.  The two of them hit it off immediately, going on about fantastical legends and magic and curses—topics that Allen had researched extensively over the past few years.  After a few months of training together, playing pranks together, and studying together, Lavi opened up one morning, spilling an exorbitant amount of information to Allen.  He was the prince of Bookman Kingdom, apparently.  He was supposed to inherit the throne, but he didn't want to.  When asked why, Lavi took awhile to compile all the reasons in his head.  In the end he had quite a few complaints, but the largest of them were: "I'd have to see friends like you as my enemies, and ally with those whom I detest."

Upon further questioning, Lavi, apparently, wasn't too keep on the idea of arranged marriage either.

"What if she's mean?!  A hag!  Or ugly!  Or or-" a sigh caught Allen's attention.  He hadn't been paying attention to Lavi's rant, but his tone shift suddenly piqued his interest.  "What if I'm just not interested?"

"What do you mean by that?" And before Allen knew it, the two of them were speaking in harsh whispers about something apparently forbidden.  There were, as it seemed, men who fell in love with other men.  Lavi has seen it happen before, and the two butlers that were in the affair at his castle were ripped apart and sent away.  It was frowned upon, at least where he came from.  Allen had never heard of it, but when he said as much, Lavi seemed incredulous.

"That's so weird!  Your dad was one of them!" It was as if the world was a mere glass pane that shattered upon the impact of the redhead's voice.  It didn't make sense.  

"Then why was I born?" His mother had always told him a baby came from a mother and father in love.

"Arranged marriage." Lavi answered, a frown plastered to his lips.  

  
  


The two had kissed once; it was a mutual test.  That had to make sure they weren't one of these forbidden men, and although Lavi passed the test quite spectacularly, finding absolutely no enjoyment in kissing the young prince, Allen had only began to add to his crumbling self-doubt.

  
  


Allen was 16 when Lavi decided that marrying a girl wouldn't be so bad if it was someone he loved.  He left to chase after a girl in a far away, eastern kingdom.  Allen had met her several times, as she was an important princess from China.  They had discussed foreign relations over the years, and honestly, Allen couldn't see Lenalee not falling head-over-heels for Lavi.  Lavi was smart, energetic, charismatic, sweet—the prince stopped himself, stopped his thoughts.  His chest ached and lurched at the idea of giving something up he had pined over for nearly a year.  Lavi just wasn't interested; he had made that clear, so Allen needed to move on.

  
  


Allen was 17 when his mother caught him flirting with a helping hand.  Well, it wasn't so much flirting as it was a blunt attempt at seduction.  Fearing her repulsion, Allen immediately began to cry, and the butler bolted, ashamed of his own florid cheeks.

To Allen's surprise, however, his mother was more confused than upset.  

"Was I interrupting something?" She laughed nervously, eyeing the door where the servant had pushed past her to flee only seconds before.  Allen was sitting on his bed, absolutely frazzled, and he shook his head quickly.  "Your father was like that too, you know."  She shut the door behind her; apparently it was time for a talk.

"M-mother?"

"He always flirted with my servants!  Always!  It seemed like every time I got a new one, he scooped him up right in front of me.  I had to start hiring only female maids; it was so annoying.  Most women can't read; we don't have schools or anything like that, so finding educated servants was hard." She sat down beside her son, put an arm around him, and sighed.  She had far too much to say, but Allen was good at listening far too much anyway.

  
  


Allen was 18 when his world was flipped upside down.  Someone had heard his conversation with his mother that night. Earlier today she was executed.  Adultery wasn't tolerated (at least, if the adulterer was a woman).  Since Allen was a illegitimate child born of his mother and some man she was in love with who  _ wasn't _ Mana, he was deemed a bastard by the new king, a plump, goblin-like man who found his pain far too amusing.  "Earl," as he went by was apparently a distant cousin to Mana, so he inherited the throne, and his first order was to get rid of any objective parties.  

  
  


Allen was 18 when he was locked away as an illegitimate child.  No, not only locked away, but sent away, to a new Kingdom; the Black Kingdom.  There, unwilling servants of the "Earl" of Grey Cross Kingdom shoved him into a large stone tower.

All that greeted him in this place was darkness.  Darkness and an odd sound that resembled breathing.  He couldn't see a thing—it was the middle of the night after all, and outside, the clouds covered up any hope of using the moon and the stars as a guide.  He didn't know how wide the room he was in was; he only knew that it was high.  The windows were an eternity above him, and the ones that shone dull light in didn't illuminate anything at all.  He only knew that he couldn't help but to lay down and cry, and subsequently fall asleep to the exhaustion of his tears, oblivious to his new roommate.

  
  


It wasn't until the next afternoon that Allen woke to the smell of... Something or another.  His stomach grumbled, and maybe what he smelled was food, maybe not.  It was edible though, or at least that's what his stomach insisted.  He opened his eyes, groaning softly as he sat up.  He immediately took to wiping away the little tear stains on his cheeks as he turned to the door.  There was a tray on the floor near the entrance, and, not really thinking about anything else, he crawled over.  

A quick survey revealed that there wasn't nearly enough here to count as a dinner.  The meat was burnt, but the potatoes and the vegetables looked alright.  He took a bite, and in the blink of an eye it was gone.  He sniffled a bit, feeling a great emptiness inside of his stomach.  There's no way he could sustain himself on this.  He wished he hadn't slept through breakfast and lunch.

After sliding his tray back under the door, Allen finally managed to stand, and he turned back to the room.  Upon seeing just what was in front of him—what had been there all night, his bones liquified.  Allen fell to his knees, and a scream echoed loudly through the tower.  He scrambled for the door, crying and banging on the wood with his fists.

"Please!  Oh, God, please!  Someone!  Anyone!  Help me!  Help me!" But after a few seconds of this mortified noise, Allen was pulled back.  A black  _ thing  _ was wrapped around his waist, strong and sleek and shining in the sunlight that now poured in from the windows.  Only now, Allen could plainly see why many of the windows from last night weren't letting in any moonlight at all.  

You see, there just so happened to be a large, onyx-colored dragon head blocking off some of them.  Along with this, there were two large, blue-grey eyes staring into his own.  He tried to scream again, but was unable to find a voice.  The beast in front of him resembled a water serpent ready to swallow him whole.  The prince struggled, eyes surveying his enemy and arms struggling to push away the flowery end of the black tail grasping him. The red decals were evidentially important—a sign of beauty perhaps—but the beast didn't seem to change expressions when his captive beat at them.  This monster had two claws that were resting one one of the large bookshelves in the circular, stone room, and it seemed to have two feet as well, but Allen wasn't sure, as the dragon appeared to be sitting.  

He managed to bubble out a shout when the creature shook him slightly, maybe out of curiosity, maybe out of cruelty.  The tears started up again, as did the wailing, and soon the dragon was just all-around frustrated with this crying boy begging to be let go.  

Huffing, the beast laid the end of its tail over Allen's mouth, effectively ending his screaming.  For a moment, it worked, but as soon as the dragon was ready to sigh in relief, Allen bit down into his rough skin.  Bad idea on the kid's part.  He recognized that right away, whipping his head back and groaning in pain.  It felt like he had just tried to chew up a boulder, and he painfully ran his tongue along his teeth to make sure none were broken.  The two just stayed that way for a few moments, Allen trying to calm his breathing and assuage his pain with sheer willpower, the beast merely breathing steadily.  Of course, that had to come to an end; the end being Allen suddenly whipping back up to struggle once more, begging for his life _yet again._ Honestly he was about to just kill the kid to get him to shut up.

Instead, he set him down, a little more gently than he would have liked, on the floor, and though his tail released the prince, the very tip went to rest on the boy's lips once more.  It was a little silent sign that meant "please shut the hell up," and Allen seemed to understand, for he immediately covered his mouth with his own hands, watching as the dragon puffed out a little smoke before resting his head on the bookshelf as well and falling into a slumber.  

What had he ever done to deserve this?

  
  


Allen remained silent for the rest of the day, trying his best to entertain himself with the slew of books at his disposal.  It was to avail, though.  After all, it's a bit difficult to divert your attention away from being banished and locked up to die. He almost wished they would have just killed him, but the new king was afraid of making a martyr out of him.  Allen almost burst out crying several times that day, but the sleeping dragon kept him too guarded to let out even a whimper.  

Nightfall swept in quickly, though, considering he slept all afternoon the previous day it wasn't really a surprise.  However, summer was ending, and with the loss of that warmth and comfort came an abundance of cold, fall air: just perfect.  

He was going to freeze to death here; he was sure about it.  He was going to freeze, and the big dragon was going to have a nice frozen snack when it awoke.  What a way to go.  

Speaking of the dragon: the creature was still sleeping soundly, unaffected by the chill air.  It seemed comfortable, and Allen envied it greatly.  Here he was, shivering with chattering teeth, and this dragon was just over there without a problem in the world. It was aggravating to say the least.

Halfway through his frozen, mental rant, an idea popped into Allen's head, and soon, he was curled up in the long tail of the dragon, using it as a blanket and praying the beast just continued with his slumber.  Under such a warm cover, however, he easily fell asleep.

  
  


When the morning came, Allen expected two possibilities: he'd either be dead, or he'd be still curled up in the tail of the still slumbering beast. 

What he didn't expect was to be laying in a warm bed, covered up with several blankets and his head resting on a big, fluffy pillow.  He didn't recognize the tiny room he was in, but there was a window several feet above where he was laying, shut tight. In fact, if it wasn't for the light streaming in from the other room via the ajar door, the tower would have been pitch black.

He was bewildered.  Was he free?  Did someone carry him out during the night?

For a brief moment, Lavi's face crossed his mind. Maybe after hearing the disaster he decided to return to rescue his friend.  That was... Well, idealistic at best.  There's no way Lavi could have arrived all the way from China so quickly. Maybe it was a revolutionary from his country? 

Well, there was no use speculating about it; he'd have to check for himself.

Allen crept towards the door, keeping a pillow in hand as some sort of desperate shield.  He peeked out, and, upon not seeing much, pushed the door open little by little.  Looking suspiciously from side to side, Allen realized he was in the same room.  He nearly dropped dead from disappointment.  

The prince sighed, but that only seemed to summon that dreaded black tail again, and the diminutive teen was plucked up from the ground, pillow shield and all.

"No, no, don't eat me! Don't eat me!" He struggled, beating the dragon (quite ineffectively) with his pillow-shield (apparently a pillow-weapon now) in desperation.  

Out of sheer frustration, the dragon growled and flipped Allen upside down.  Gravity and shock caused the pillow to fall from his hands, and he watched as his only defense descended away, arms reaching down in a desperate, sad effort. 

"P-Please!  Don't eat me!  I'm... I'm not tasty!" The dragon didn't seem amused, but then again it was hard to tell since he didn't exactly major in body language of terrifying beasts.  He swallowed thickly, feeling a few more strands of his white hair fall subject to the ever-present force of gravity.  He didn't have anything intelligent to say, but he had to spit out something before this beast swallowed him whole.

"I-"

"Shut up!" Allen blinked once.  Twice.  Three times.  He could have sworn he heard a voice just then, but no one else was in the room.  It wasn't as if the dragon was speaking either; it hadn't moved it's jaw an inch.

"Did you... Just hear..."

"It's me, idiot."  And suddenly, the prince was once again being held upright.  He was thankful for the familiarity, but he still didn't really know what to think about the voice.

"Did you just-"

"Yes!  For the hundredth time yes!  It's me, the dragon.  I'm using telepathy to communicate with your tiny little mind."

Allen was scared silent.  What could he actually say to that?  

"O-Okay..." A great, wise response.  He mentally shrieked as the dragon blew a puff of smoke at him, but on the outside he could only cough.  That cleared away soon enough, and as it did, Allen found that he was once again standing on his own two feet on the stone floor of the tower.

"Listen, cause I'm only going to say this once: I'm not going to eat you." The words made Allen suddenly beam, a brightness taking over his eyes.  He clasped his hands together, nodding a bit.

"Thank you so much!  I can't-"

"Shut up." The dragon shifted a bit before opening its mouth wide, in what seemed like a yawn.  Whatever it was, it put every single razor-sharp tooth on display for Allen to see, and he was terrified.

Instead of saying anything, however, he only nodded.  The dragon seemed content with that, but began speaking again anyway.

"You're a cute kid, okay?  But you are  _ so  _ annoying when you cry.  That's all I've been hearing the past two nights, and I'm sick of it already.  Your sniveling is getting on my nerves,  _ beansprout. _ "

"'Bean'... 'Sprout'?"

"Yeah, beansprout."

"M-My name is Allen..."

"And my name for you is  _ beansprout. _ "

"I'm not-"

"Listen," he wasn't in the mood to hear Allen's objections.  "Your room is there," the beast used his tail to point to the small bedroom the prince had just emerged from, "and you get your food from there," this time, he pointed towards the large iron-trimmed door that Allen had been shoved through on his first night here, "and so long as you don't start that crying shit again, this is where you can read."  Finally, the dragon gestured to the large bookcase he was resting his hands on.  It was filled with tomes, memoirs, novels, scientific essays, and zoological and biological journals.  

Allen took a few seconds to let it all sink in before sighing frustratedly.  "You're heartless!  I'll cry if I want to!" 

"Cry silently."  That being said, the dragon lowered its head once more to rest on its little arms.  Allen didn't seem satisfied with that, though, as he felt the need to speak up.

"I can't just sit here and rot!  If you don't want me here, then let me out!  You're more than capable of that I'm sure!" Surprised by his indignant attitude, the dragon bumped the prince with his tail. 

"Sure, if you want me to drop you all the way from the window to the ground.  My tail doesn't extend, you know."  

"Well, why can't you just fly me out.  Don't you have wings?"  The serpent raised its head and blinked a few times before finally, after two whole days of just standing there, it let go of the bookshelf, front feet landing with a large crash onto the floor.  The slight tremor caused by the sheer force of the impact caused Allen to stumble and fall backwards.  He didn't have time to think about the pain in his backside (or the embarrassing squeak he had just let out), as the dragon's wings suddenly burst out from his body, crashing up and around, colliding with the sides and top of the tower with ease.  It was... Majestic to say the least, but... 

"They're too big.  I can't move them in here." A few seconds of silence passed as the beast drew them back in, contracting slowly and painfully, as a large number of stones were still falling on and in its wings.

"But... What if you-"

"If I break through, they'll notice, and because my wings are large, they'll spot me right away.  I make an easy target for archery.  You're not the only one being held up here, sprout," he curled up a little now, not defensively, just casually, like a resting snake, "so stop sobbing about it."

  
  


Several weeks had passed since Allen had first arrived, and although he still argued with the dragon every single day, the two had found some kind of mutual ground.  It was... Weird to say the least, living with a large beast that could kill you at any time, but the books were entertaining, and he had time to gather all of his thoughts.  He had no doubts about escaping; there's no way he wouldn't get out of this place, but the dragon seemed less optimistic.

The cold weather, however, was getting Allen down.  He couldn't help but to feel pessimistic when his bones were frozen so solidly that even covering himself with endless blankets couldn't warm him.  Night after night, it was happening, and soon, snow was flitting in through the windows.  The dragon, however, never got cold.  Evidentially, magic kept it warm. That was more than Allen could say.

This night was one of those in which he couldn't feel his fingers unless he wedged them under his armpits or between his thin thighs.  He was sick of it, so out of a desperate attempt to not freeze, he wandered back into the main tower, three blankets around his shoulders.  The dragon was still asleep, as he expected, and that was perfect. 

He sandwiched himself under the reptile, and just like before. He falls into a deep slumber.

Allen woke up in the middle of the night, shivering and reaching around for his covers, his dragon,  _ anything _ .  He was so thankful to finally latch onto something warm, that he didn't really think much about it, just cuddled closer.  Some silky hair tickled his nose, and he giggled a bit, nuzzling into a pleasant scent.  The hazy awakening gave way to more sleep, and when he woke again hours later, it was only because he suddenly received a solid kick to the stomach.  

Out of breath, Allen choked and gasped desperately for air, grabbing onto whatever was closest, which just so happened to be an arm.  His eyes were wide open, aimed at the person in front of him, and, well, he was rendered breathless in more ways than one.

"Let go!  Look what you did  _ again,  _ you idiot!" The voice didn't register right away, as Allen was too preoccupied with the beautiful person in front of him.  They sat up, making a lazy attempt to shake off the prince’s hold, but he sat up too, unwilling to let go of their hand..  Onyx tresses were draped all around them, and two cobalt eyes were glaring at him from their silky framing.  The pale arm in his grip seemed to glow in the morning sunlight, along with the rest of this person's porcelain skin, but black markings were scrawled all over his (at least he was assuming this person was a “he” by the lack of breasts) chest.

"Idiot beansprout!" Suddenly, the arm was ripped from his grasp, and the nickname brought the prince out of his trance, eyes widening in recognition.

"Y-You're!  The dragon!"

"Yeah, no shit." The figure hissed, rubbing at his arm.  His lean chest was on display, as the long, sleeveless  _ gi  _ he had on covered his shoulders, hung loosely around his abdomen, and collected a little below his waist.  The bottom barely reached his mid-thigh, and, overall, he just seemed indecent.  Allen instantly went bright red, covering his eyes and turning away in embarrassment.

The two stayed that way for a few moments before finally, the (now human?) dragon spoke up.

"My name's Kanda." When Allen looked back at him,  _ Kanda  _ wasn't any more decent.  

"K-Ka-"

"And you, idiot, are cursed."  He could have gathered that much just by looking at the boy's cheek, but saying it aloud really solidified it.

Allen looked suddenly solemn (save for his florid cheeks), and he frowned gravely.  "D-did I... Harm..."

"No, dipshit, you just stayed too close to me for too long.  I slipped into my safety state."

"'Safety state'?" Allen was curious now, not that he wasn't before, and turned a little to fully face the man.  

"Humans are our biggest threat.  We use magic to blend in with them when we need to." Kanda begrudgingly began to finger-comb through his hair.  "Believe it or not, I just so happen to be a regal dragon, so reverting back isn't usually hard. It's just harder if you keep putting you hands all over me, and it's even more so since you have some kind of black magic casted upon you." Allen was mesmerized in the way Kanda's slim fingers carried through his luxurious hair.  It was like the separation of a deep, dark ocean, and the locks only continued to crash into each other when they were free.  Little black flecks began to appear along his cheekbones almost like dark freckles, and Allen realized suddenly that they were scales. His features seemed to grow sharper, and he rolled his shoulders a few times, getting ready to sprout out his wings once more. 

"You're so beautiful."  Allen didn't realize he had even spoken aloud until Kanda's cheeks were bright red and he was staring at him, choking on air.  The scales seemed to slip right back into his skin, and his features softened once more.  "N-n-n-no!  I-I didn't mean- I mean, you  _ are  _ beautiful!  B-but I didn't mean to say that!  Don't be mad, I-"

"Holy shit, just shut up." So Allen did, watching in wonder as Kanda cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck. It wasn't the first time he's been called beautiful, but it was certainly the first time in many, many years.  He hadn't seen a human in... Centuries maybe.  He wasn't even sure.  His cheeks wouldn't stop burning, though, and he knew the pale prince was still visually eating him up.  He sighed, finally, turning to rest a hand on Allen's cheek.  "You want out, right?" Almost like a cat, the prince melted into Kanda's hand, his heart speeding up incredibly.  The words almost didn't register, but when they did, he could only mumble out a distracted reply.

"Y-yeah..."

"Focus!"

"Y-yeah!" He sat up a little straighter, only to suddenly be pulled into a kiss.  It was unexpected,but he couldn't find it in himself to try to resist.  Instead, he was completely melting into it, confused but happy.  He hadn't had human contact in almost two months now, and a kiss from a cute boy was more than welcome.

When they pulled apart, however, Allen felt a bit light-headed.  He blinked a few times, his own hands somehow already resting on Kanda's shoulders.  The other man was staring back, though he was rolling his shoulders once more.  The prince seemed content with just being entranced in his lips, so Kanda saw no point in pushing him away.  Instead, he eventually wrapped his arms around the boy, two black wings sprouting dramatically from his own back.  They were large, but not nearly as large as before.  

"The more contact we have, the more human I can stay while still using my dragon features." Kanda explained, but it was falling on deaf ears.  Allen couldn't focus on anything but how gorgeous Kanda was in this moment, how soft he was, how wonderfully his scent was.  "Hold on tight," was the only warning he got before the two were lifted up into the sky. "I'll have us out into the courtyard in no time, but from there, it's strictly running.  Got it?"  Allen nodded without really thinking about it, and from there, he didn't really remember much at all: only the feeling on Kanda's hand in his own as the mystic individual pulled him through the court gardens and into a nearby forest.  

  
  


They were safe, and ever since, Kanda denied the kiss being anything but a mutual gain for them both, but here they were, a few years later, living out their days in a small little village, countries away from where they started.  Kanda was at his side, sleeping away peacefully.  He hadn't reverted back to his "dragon" form often since the day they escaped, and Allen felt guilty about that, but he couldn't change centuries of the history of dragon-poaching.  It was safest for them to stay low and for Kanda to only shake his wings out in large forests and mountains.

He stroked Kanda's cheek gently as he slept, in a sort of one-sided apology.  Timcanpy, who had somehow found Allen after all these years, chirped joyfully in a cage beside the bed.  That went on for awhile, but eventually, the magical being beside Allen stirred, grumbling as he sat up, voice groggy and rough with sleep.

"What the hell are you doing to my face, asshole?" Ah, yes, as charming as ever.

"Just, you know, trying to be affectionate,  _ JerKanda,  _ not that you'd know anything about that."

"Fuck you; if you don't like my affection, you can go find some other dragon to fuck,  _ Beansprout. _ " Not to mention eloquent.

The two bickered meaninglessly for quite awhile until finally, they were kissing once more.  Their arguments always dissolved into kissing, but that was okay.  They had a nice house to themselves (thanks to Kanda selling a few "antique dragon teeth" that he had "received as a family heirloom").  They weren't exactly sure where they'd go from here or what'd they do next, but for now, they were content with kissing and cursing each other out here and there.  Allen often suggested going out to visit King Lavi and his beautiful Queen Lenalee, but Kanda was insistent that he'll go when he felt like it (he paid for the house with his own teeth, after all.  He was going to live in it).

So they stayed in each other's arms, kissing and swearing and insulting and loving, until they both fell into a post-wake-up nap, entangled in each other's limbs and mingling their in-sync breaths.


	2. Android and Human AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, excessive fluff, death by fluff, some implied past non-con but there's no detail about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked this one a little more than the first chapter, but I did less proof-reading for this one. Sorry.

It had been years since human life had teemed vivaciously on the earth.  Robots had been left behind, left to do the work for humans that had long passed away.  Still, the people who still remained continued inventing, innovating, and repairing them.  It was like an obsession, an addiction.  It was a need to leave a piece of themselves behind in a world where they could die any day.  

There were a special occupation for each robot.  A2 units focused on agriculture and livestock.  D9 units focused on purifying what water they could find.  K4 units, however, were possibly the most sought after on the thinly-spread market. Not only were they beautiful displays, servants, and companions, but they also doubled as guards, and in some cases (due to their protective nature) they were used to find humans still living in the decrepit rural villages and bring them to newly built cities.  

Today was no different for unit K4-NDA.  He was currently out of his master's house, looking for any survivors.  His master was obsessed with taking in the less fortunate, and he loved to call every kid that stumbled into his house "son" or "daughter."  He saw K4-NDA as a son too, the fool.

K4-NDA threw a rather prodigious piece of rubble to the side without batting an eyelash.  He rolled his right shoulder a few times, and not hearing a single creak, decided he could keep going forever.

He had heard the cry of pain from miles away; something he was trained to do, but not nearly as well as his companion (or brother, as Master Tiedoll often said) M4 unit.  M4-RIE was the least of his worries at the moment though.  He had to help whoever was under this.  

That being said, it only took a few minutes for him to clear out the large stone chunks.  From what he could tell, the ceiling had collapsed in and trapped its occupant.  Before him lay a boy, long passed out.  His left arm was completely crushed, and there were a few cuts on the left side of his face.  When the android reached down to further inspect the injuries, he noticed a pool of blood puddling around the boy's white hair.  K4-NDA knew it was too dangerous to move him now, so instead, he settled for a quick healing session for the boy.

He made a fine slit on his wrist with a nail from his other hand, and a vibrant red fluid oozed out.  The kid before him was breathing shallowly, but the K4 unit decided it would be safe enough to just shove his wrist to the cracked, pink skin of his lips.

He did, and the boy went silent for a bit as the blood against his mouth seeped past the chapped flesh there and onto his tongue.  A few dry swallows later, and he twitched.  K4 took that as his cue to pull away just in time for the boy to break out into a session of rough coughs.  After a moment, he sat up, blearily blinking and rolling his left shoulder a bit.

"What... Who?" He must have gotten his head smashed pretty hard; either that or he was just slow.

"I'm a K4 unit come to help you.  Come." The robot held out his hand.  The human looked first at his eyes, then the hand in front of him, then to the characters that seemed to be mere tattoos into the front of the robot's neck.  They blurred together a bit, but he could still make them out.

"Ka... Kanda?" Well, he mostly made them out.

"K4-NDA, but you may call me Kanda if that's what you wish, Beansprout." He tugged the boy up, realizing that he was rather short and rather unsteady.

And rather cute.

"Bean... Sprout?  My name's... Allen." Allen seemed to be in a daze, but that wasn't a surprise considering he was just crushed.

"Beansprout," Kanda insisted, bending over a bit before scooping up the boy in front of him into his arms.  "Let's go." Allen let out a yell, clinging immediately to "Kanda" in fear.

"W-Wait!  Wh-where-" but it was too late; the robot was already hopping across the large village to his master's residence.

At first, all Allen seemed to be able to do was scream, but eventually, and unexpectedly, a little bubbling laugh began to tumble out from his lips.  The K4 unit didn't seem nearly as disturbed by this as the tears falling back onto his chest, soaking his shirt. 

Humans were confusing.

 

Tiedoll had been gushing all over the new arrival ever since Kanda had brought him home a few weeks ago.  He was British; the first fully European human Tiedoll had ever seen out here in Asia.  He was enthralled with the unique features in Allen's face, the lightness of Allen's hair, the quirks in Allen's speech.  

The entire world had been speaking the same language for some time now.  The globalization only proved to raise tensions everywhere: the exact opposite of it's purpose.  However, hearing Allen roll off word after word of this new language with the accent of his ancestral tongue almost had Kanda thinking that the new speech wasn't so bad.

Tiedoll wouldn't stop drawing him, crying over how beautiful Allen was, and reassuring him that his scar and his arm only made him more beautiful. 

The old man had a way of saying everything Kanda thought, including the fact that his new name was officially "Kanda." He didn't like how the old man had insisted with calling him by his old companion name, "Yuu," anyway.  

Allen on the other hand still seemed like a ghost in their house, always distant and almost always silent.  Kanda hated it for some reason that didn't make sense to him, and one day, he decided to change that.

"You look like shit, Beansprout." The kid was dirty again; apparently he had forgotten than they had a working shower here.  He had been petting a little stray cat before Kanda had so rudely scared it off with his large, creaking footfalls. 

"My name's Allen." The British boy was quick to correct him.  

"Beansprout."

"What, don't you have enough storage up there to remember?  Al-len.  It's not that hard."  The short boy stood, eyes suddenly engulfed in a fire that Kanda had yet to see since he had arrived.  Always,  _ always,  _ Allen was nodding his head, giving a little fake smile here and there, laughing softly and emptily.  Now?  Now he was alive, and though Kanda could never share in that feeling, he felt proud.  He, a lowly little android, brought something to life.

"It's just not important enough information to store away."

" _ Important _ ?  My name isn't important?  I'm sorry, I forgot, you only consider yourself important, right?" Kanda felt his lips twitch up in a way unfamiliar to his recent action completion history.  He was smirking, and Allen seemed briefly shocked at the sight.

"That's right.  You don't look out for anyone else in this world unless you want to end up a sex doll or a piece of scrap metal."  He hummed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "although I guess for you humans that's something more like, 'unless you want to end up being bought and sold or dead on the street.'" Allen seemed horrified at the mere concept of what Kanda was suggesting, and he began speaking, nearly yelling.  It was loud and annoying and far too idealistic to ever be realistic, but it was all so beautiful to Kanda.  He kept arguing with Allen because it charged up something within him, a section of machinery his system hasn't used in years.

The emotions he thought had grown numb.

 

Allen was so beautiful that Tiedoll had began to make little dolls of him.  Even after months in the home, Allen couldn't quite understand him.  He had so many robots, but he never saw the old man actually make anything other than drawings and dolls.  The T1-M unit seemed to be European just like Allen, even though Tiedoll claimed to have never seen a European human before.  Kanda and the CH4-OJI unit were both Asian, Japanese and Chinese respectively, and the M4-RIE unit seemed to be in between European and African himself.  

Allen was just confused.  Tiedoll couldn't have made all of these robots without a guide or reference, right?  He had to know what people outside of his continent looked like.  Maybe... He just used the interconnected social communication systems for basic information?  The internet was an archaic thing, long since censored by the singular government that had tried to scoop together the world only to lose it to ruin.

He was convinced that Tiedoll had to have seen a European  _ somewhere _ , but the man also had no reason to lie to Allen.  He was just so bewildered by it all.

When he asked Kanda about it, the robot seemed surprised that Allen noticed.  

"Isn't this something you should be asking Master Tiedoll about?" He didn't want to answer the eyes looking at him in curiosity.  He was afraid of the laughter and the scorn and the past experiences behind those same questioning eyes.  

He was  _ afraid. _

_ Wonderful fear.   _ Something he hadn't felt in years.  In a lifetime.  

It was so beautiful, yet it still brought the machinery in his head to a dangerous rate of spinning.  He was short-circuiting right in front of Allen as the pale boy bombarded him with more and more questions.

 

In the end, he had to carry and steaming Kanda to Tiedoll.  Turns out the robot wasn't constructed to handle so many conflicting thoughts at once.  In fact, the old man seemed astonished that the cause of his system shutdown was an emotional overdrive and not overwork like it always was.

"I... Didn't even know."

"Didn't even know?" Allen repeated, handing Tiedoll a cloth from a basin of cold water.  The man placed it gently over Kanda's face.  The robot had gone into a temporary sleep to cool down.  

"I didn't even know he was built to process emotions.  Those... I didn't think there were any left." 

"Wait," Allen glanced down to Kanda, then back to Tiedoll, then to the robot once more.  "Didn't you build him?"

"No, no," he laughed a bit at the idea of building his own robot, "I'm only an amateur!  I repair the robots I find and give them new names."

"You... Found him?" Kanda was aggravating, but he was a good robot.  He carried out whatever order was given to him swiftly and efficiently.  Allen was secretly envious of how strong he was too.  He couldn't begin to imagine why anyone would throw him out.  Even if they needed more compliance, all they had to do was rewire him until his free will disappeared.  It was a simple and effective procedure, but looking down at the cooling machinery in front of him, Allen couldn't help but to feel guilty for even thinking of that. 

"Yes, yes.  I found him out in the dumpster of a mansion.  I asked him many many times what had happened to him, but he never answered.  Very mysterious."  Tiedoll smiled fondly at the memory, but Allen seemed incredulous.

"You opened him up and took a look, right?  It's important to know what has happened to your robot." 

"Of course not."  The man shook his head, hand reaching out to pat Kanda's shoulder.  "Yuu has every right to his privacy that I do."  

Allen's face contorted in confusion for the umpteenth time that day.  He hailed from a very industrial land; somewhere that used to be called England.  There, everything was factories and efficiency.  He couldn't begin to imagine why anyone would try to show sympathy to a robot.  Then again... That was just a lie.  He knew perfectly well how attached you could grow to an android.

He took a look down at Kanda again, and once more guilt clawed at his stomach.  Could he really think of this man- no, no, he was a  _ robot.   _ Well, he was, but he was also a companion.  If Allen didn't hate his guts so much he'd even consider the guy a friend.

The  _ robot _ guy.  Kanda wasn't human.  

He couldn't start thinking that he was unless he wanted another incident like Man-

Like unit M4-NA.

 

Kanda wasn't a genius by any stretch of the imagination, but even he could tell that Allen was being suspicious around him.  It was disconcerting to say the least.  In fact, after a while, the long gazes and unnecessary moments of contact became outrightly frightening.  He broke the next time Allen "accidentally" laid his hand down on Kanda's knee.

"What the  _ fuck  _ do you think you're doing?" He hissed out, yanking the hand off of his own.

"Nothing!  Nothing!  I just thought that I could use your leg like an armrest, you know?" He was grinning a bit, but that was soon replaced with a frown.  Kanda wouldn't let go of his hand.  

"What the fuck do you think I am?  A piece of furniture?" It was mostly just a joke: a way to poke at the love for everyone that Allen liked to boast.  The boy hated when people pointed out his moments of apathy or a small, slightly rude action. At least, that's what Kanda gathered over the last few months they had spent together.

The two were sitting side-by-side on a beaten-down sofa.  They had been watching tv until Allen decided to get handsy.  

Kanda was waiting to hear some pathetic defense or something shot back at him.  Maybe even an apology; Allen said sorry often; though it was never directed at Kanda.  

The defense, the repartee—the  _ apology _ never came.  Instead, Allen only looked at him confused.  It was almost as if... As if he...

As if Kanda had hit the nail on the head.

"Oh, fuck, no," Kanda's face scrunched in disgust, the machinery inside him heating and turning and buzzing too quickly—too much; it was too much, "fuck you." He threw Allen's hand back, standing up suddenly.

"Wait, Kanda!" Allen's voice was laced with bewilderment and something else the robot didn't want to explore.  He began to march off, but two hands quickly clutched his wrist.  He yanked his arm away; he needed space, and he needed it now.  

"Fuck  _ off _ , Beansprout." He hissed, but the boy just couldn't take a hint.  He pulled hard enough to throw Kanda off balance, and he landed with a dull thud on the couch beside Allen.  Kanda struggled to stand once more, but he was pushed down.  

A hand on his shoulder, two palms on his waist, some claws in his hips, innumerable fingers digging into his legs.  He screamed, or at least, the gears inside him did.  They whirred at a intractable pace, and he could only choke on something that wasn't there, on air he never needed to breathe anyway.  He escaped the only way he knew how.

"Calm down!  You didn't even... Give... K-Kanda?" Allen sat, puzzled as to why the robot just stopped moving completely. Did he cause the machine to exhaust itself again?  No, that couldn't be it.  His hand was on Kanda's shoulder, and the robot didn't feel hot like last time.  He felt cold, almost...

Lifeless.

"Kanda?!" Allen quickly fitted the android's cheeks into his palms, tilting Kanda's face to his own.  The eyes there remained unmoving, focused on everything and on nothing all at the same time.  He looked like a mannequin, like some kind of doll in Allen's hands.  The distant stare saw right through him—right into him, and he screamed.  

"Kanda!  Kanda!" He shook the robot's shoulders, the tears welling up in his eyes being held hostage by his thick, white lashes.

"Oh, God, Tiedoll!  Tiedoll!"

 

M4-RIE and T1-M were both there that day, and although their master was at a loss for the situation, "Marie" seemed to know exactly what was going on.  He refused to speak, though, and "Tim" refused to leave Kanda's side, holding the android's large hand in both of his own.

Tiedoll was in charge of watching over Kanda.  His son seemed almost... Dead, but the murmuring machinery that whispered through a stethoscope said differently.  He was at a lost of words.  Kanda wasn't stiff like he was in his overworked mode.  Instead, he was a rag-doll, a little toy his Tiedoll's trembling hands.  

And those  _ eyes.   _

And that terrible  _ gaze. _

How it saw absolutely everything, understood all, but processed nothing, digested nothing.

How it stored it all away for another time—a stable-enough state that simply couldn't exist in a human imagination.

"Yuu... Yuu is in safe mode." He spoke finally, and Marie seemed surprised that Tiedoll was able to recognize what was happening.  Even worse, the expression on Tiedoll's face, the way he stared at the perfectly neutral expression of Kanda's... 

He knew what that meant.

"'Safe mode'?" Allen repeated, at a loss for what any of that meant.

"Yes.  He is... He's protecting himself by shutting everything unnecessary down.  Fine movement, balance, speech," Tiedoll paused for a beat, "emotions." 

It was if he was speaking in a language that everyone in the room was fluent in except for Allen.  The worst part was that he expected Allen to understand it; he expected Allen to have spoken it all his life.

"I don't... Understand." He said finally, the cold ocean of silence that had passed through the room was killing him slowly, frostbite on his tongue and water in his lungs and hypothermia in his mind.

A harsh wave hit his body, tossing it around like nothing.  He looked toward Tim, unsure if he heard the robot correctly.

"Wh-what?"

"Tim!  Your language!" Tiedoll's words did nothing to phase the T1 unit.

"I said get the hell out, you bully!" The boy, no, the  _ android,  _ was crying.  There was nothing else that could be.  Water was spilling from his cheeks.  It ran down his cheeks too quickly; it was too thin to be real.  Just simple  _ water _ , not the bubbles of salty, saline tears that real humans had, but...

No matter what, Allen couldn't discredit that full, tumultuous torrent of human emotions that flowed through Tim's eyes, through the skin between his knitted brows, through the tension in his pristine, gritted teeth.

Through the hatred in his disposition.

The distinctly human hatred in his heart.

He stood, frozen.  The wave was made of liquid nitrogen, and he felt if someone tapped him he would crumble apart.

However, a warm hand landed on his shoulder, and although Tim's dry ice gaze never wavered, Marie's warm disposition was enough to melt him.  He turned slowly to face the man, his eyes lingering on Tim's for a little before flicking to the taller android, senses lost in Marie's voice.

"We need to talk."

 

"Kanda's not intelligent." Allen was expecting to be scolded.  Instead, Marie was saying what he already knew.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Marie's blind eyes bore into the wall behind him in a way that demanded silence, so he kept silent.  "Intelligence is something most robots have.  There are, however, special robots, like me."

A silence engulfed between them, and Marie slowly lifted a hand to point to his eyes.

"I'm blind.  I was built to be blind.  My optical functions are nonexistent, but that was only so I could focus solely on audial stimulation.  I can hear from miles away; theoretically, I have the best hearing ever known.  That's how I was designed." Another silence passed, and eventually Marie motioned for Allen to sit down beside him.  Now the two were on the same sofa Kanda had shut down upon hours before.

"Kanda's like that.  His programming was focused entirely on three things." Marie held up three fingers, facing forward, not even bothering to try to face Allen.

"Battle strategy.  Most likely he was a guard for someone." He put down his ring finger, an oddly-colored digit that didn't match the rest of his hand. Allen suspected it had been cut off at some point.

"Emotions and genuine reaction.  He was someone's companion.  Someone really thought a lot of him.  And third..." Only his index finger remained now, and Marie slowly turned to look at him.  Blind eyes gazed upon Allen, but they weren't like Kanda's.  They merely existed, they were merely there, they perceived nothing.

"Subservience."  That hung in the air like a thick, bitter mist, a fog of poison.  It was like pepper spray on his tongue, down his throat, and Allen choked on it.  

He wasn't very knowledgeable about robots or programming or any of that, but "Emotional Subservient" meant only one thing in the android world.

"You're kidding..." Marie shook his head.

"We're just all waiting for him to tell us.  Ever since that meltdown we've known he has emotions, but his pride is keeping him from getting things off his chest."

"My God," Allen rested his face in his hands, eyes shut and brows drawn in frustration, "I... I triggered him.  I-I didn't mean to I just-"

"I know," Marie rested a comforting hand on the boy's arm which he felt a bit until his palm landed on Allen's shaking shoulder, "I know."

 

It had been a few days, and Kanda still wasn't out of his safe mode.  Allen's talk with Marie helped him a bit, but he ultimately still felt responsible. 

Tim wasn't helping either.  Any chance the small android got, he went off on Allen.  The small child was usually so laid-back; now he was insulting Allen daily.  Any time he found the teen outside, he'd take great pleasure in throwing stones at him.

Any time he found the human concentrating on something, he told him to leave.

Tim demanded that Allen leave.

Evidentially, despite his cold heart, Kanda was almost like a big brother to the boy, and Tim wasn't taking Allen's injustices lying down.  

He had tried on several occasions to explain himself, but the tiny android only shouted over his claims, sometimes in words and sometimes in extended syllables.  Allen was getting tired of explaining himself.  Allen was getting tired of hearing all of his own thoughts fly from the mouth of a little kid.

A week had passed, and Tim was only growing angrier.  Both Tiedoll and Marie had tried to convince him to calm down, but he was persistent.  He saw Allen as a threat, and he saw himself as the only one left willing to defend.  This ultimately led to a rather botched attempt at an attack.  Namely, Tim catching Allen sitting on the front porch and shouting as he ran up to him, hitting his legs with a stick.  

Needless to say, Allen easily put down the siege. 

Here he stood, holding Tim up by the back of his collar while the robot flailed and kicked and screamed and beat Allen to the best of his abilities.

The boy simply put his hand over Tim's mouth, shooting him a mother-like glare.

"What on  _ Earth  _ are you doing?" A muffled reply came from behind his palm, so he lifted his hand, raising a brow at the child.

"Revenge!"

"Stop that!  I  _ told  _ you, I didn't mean to do that to Kanda!"

"Liar!"

"I'm not lying!"

"Liar, Liar, Liar!" Tim struggled once more, his blue, spiky hair swishing back and forth.  "Let me down right now!" 

"Not until you believe me!" Tim huffed before beginning to swing back and forth in Allen's grip.  He continued for some time, Allen being too bewildered to do anything about it.  That would prove a fatal mistake, though, for as soon as Tim was close enough, he twisted his body to the side and landed a tiny but powerful kick to Allen's crotch.  

The robot was dropped, and the human fell, clutching his thighs as he took to a fetal position.  Tim continued to hit him with the stick in defiance, laughing almost evilly in accomplishment.

Allen was dealing with two very real, very intense sources of pain, and although his poor groin was slowly working it's way back to normalcy, the branch hitting him wasn't going away at all.  

Well, it wasn't for awhile at least, but suddenly, that too stopped.  

At first Allen thought it might have been a trap, but when he looked up, he saw Timothy crying in joy as he clutched a leg. Following said leg up, Allen made eye contact with another android.

"K-Kanda..." The tall robot, who looked even taller now that Allen was laying down, stared down at him.  For a brief moment, the boy feared those empty eyes would return once more, that the android would collapse, that Kanda would break once more, and it would be all his fault.

But, instead, the robot picked up Tim then sent a sound kick to Allen's shoulder.

Surprised, he cried out in pain and confusion.

"Wh-What-"

"Bastard.  I'm waiting."  Allen was holding his injured shoulder in his hand, nearly wanting to cry from pain.  It was his left shoulder, the same that was crushed months ago by debris.

The same arm that Kanda saved.

"Waiting?" He struggled a bit, but managed to shift until he was sitting on the wooden porch once more.  "For what?"

"Christmas." Kanda rolled his eyes. "An apology, dipshit."

"Apology?!" Allen cried out, now standing once more, expression furious.

"Yes, unless Tim here knocked the sense out of you with that stick, I'm expecting an apology."

"You saw that?"

"Of course;" Kanda smirked, adjusting the boy in his arms to rest on his hip, "It was quite the show."

"You  _ asshole _ !  Why'd you even wake up if all you were going to do was torture me?"

"I just realized that if I kept sleeping, I couldn't make your life a living hell." The android chuckled at how frustrated Allen seemed.  "Plus, this little guy here wouldn't stop licking my face."  Surprise brought the British boy out of his rage, and he turned his attention to the tiny dog peeking out behind Kanda's foot.

"T-Tim?!" The dog barked, and the boy in Kanda's arms spoke a confused, "huh?"  "Ah, no no, not you, Tim, I meant Tim!"

The boy only looked more confused, but it made a little more sense when the tiny, blonde dog raced up to Allen, leaping into his arms.  Immediately, he took to lapping at Allen's face as he giggled wildly, eyes filling up with tears of joy.

"He must be a pretty loyal pet if he came all this way just to save your sorry ass." Kanda scoffed, turning back to the house.  "I'll be waiting."

"You're  _ not  _ getting an apology until  _ I  _ get an explanation." Kanda froze, eventually looking over his shoulder at Allen. They both stood like that for a bit, staring at each other, a little cutie in their arms contrasting with their death glares.

"...tch." Kanda turned forward once more.  "We'll talk later." And he strode off, Tim demanding cookies as he approached the kitchen.  At the opportunity for food, the other Tim jumped out of Allen's arm, dashing into the house.  His owner laughed before running in after him as well, calling that he deserves some sweets too.

 

It was late at night a few days later, and Allen had fallen asleep on the porch.  Despite the weather being quite warm, nights were still chilly this time of year.  That being said, Kanda was in charge of this kid's well-being, so he brought him a blanket.

Allen was cute.  That much wasn't up for debate; he had a little baby face that just made everyone want to pinch at it and kiss it.  A sleeping Allen was no different.  The kid's hair had grown a little since the time he was here, and the shock of white was softened against his sweet features.  Strands fell down, reaching toward his lashes and brushing against his lips. Kanda stood, staring at him for a good few minutes, processing how sweet he looked bathed in the moonlight, how innocently he sat, head lolled into his shoulder and hand folded in his lap, a book fallen to the floor beside him.  He was too precious for his own good.

Kanda draped a cover over him and tucked it in around his shoulders so that it wouldn't fall down.  He could always just wake him up, but he was reluctant to ruin the moment.  For some reason it just seemed priceless and immaculate, and he just couldn't.  Instead, he softly carried another chair over and placed it delicately down beside Allen's.  He couldn't feel "cold," and he didn't need "sleep," but the machinery inside him did have specific temperature standards he had to adhere to, and every once in awhile it was necessary for him to enter into a recharging state.  

That's how he justified pulling the large, fluffy blanket around himself as well and falling into sleep mode beside the British boy.  The cover of the porch roof would protect them from any undesirable weather, and Kanda could wake up in an instant if there was any real threat, so he let himself enjoy this moment, systems slowing and chest rising up and down in a perfect, fake rhythm programmed into him.

 

When Allen awoke, he was unusually warm and cozy.  He thought, for a moment, that maybe Tim had fallen asleep on him.  It felt like his fur all over Allen, but it wasn't quite right.  Was he in bed?  He could have sworn he fell asleep out on the porch.  Maybe someone carried him back?  Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes with a yawn.  No amount of guessing would come to the equivalent of actually just looking and finding out.

As his lashes fluttered apart, he was meant with a large expanse of soft blue fluff.  The blanket was draped over him, leaving no window for cold air save for his left side, but that was draped over the seat next to him. He followed the blanket over and up, surprised to see a sleeping Kanda there.  For a brief moment, he forgot about the man being an android.  The rising and falling of his chest, the slight part in his always smooth lips, and the way his brows were raised in unrestrained relaxation just made him seem so human that Allen forgot.

In his memory lapse, the boy reached over, the blanket on his left arm tumbling down his chest and leaving his shoulder open to the cold air.  He wasn't wearing his gloves, he realized drowsily, so his dark, marred hand was out in the open for all to see.  Fire had once eaten away at it, and if it hadn't been for Kanda, the appendage would have stayed crushed and unusable under a rock with himself attached.  The least he could do in thanks was show the man some affection.  He delicately reached out, fingers just barely brushing against Kanda's perfect cheek.  The small touch, however, soon had the man's eyes slowly opening as well.  Kanda couldn't stay asleep if someone was touching him.  Allen mused that he was a light sleeper, but his heart almost stopped when those intense eyes, mere inches from his own, stared at him in a bit of surprise and confusion, an expression before unseen on Kanda.

"Beansprout?" His voice lacked that morning groggy quality, and of course the first words he spoke would be an attempt to piss Allen off, but he couldn't help but to giggle at the man.

"G'mornin... Sleep well?"

"I..." Kanda looked almost confused; it was as if he thought Allen was joking.  "Yeah... You?"

"I slept very well," is fingered pressed lightly against the tip of the android's nose in amusement.  "thanks to a little kindness from a certain someone."

Immediately, Kanda realIzed he was busted.  A flush rose to his cheeks, and he tried his best to cover it up with, well, the cover.  

"Couldn't let you freeze; Tiedoll would kill me, say I was out for revenge."

"Really now?" Allen decided it'd be a good time to pull his hand back from the other.

"Yeah."

"You're cute when you lie." The boy's words hung in the air for a few seconds before quite spectacularly crashing down on Kanda's shoulders.

"Y-You  _ bastard! _ " He sat straight up, unceremoniously ending their moment as the blanket rushed down his chest.  His cheeks were bright red, and his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were just so vivid and intense.

Allen felt himself lost in them for a brief moment before he suddenly saw the world flip over.

More specifically, he felt his chair tumble over and he followed suit, an angry Kanda stomping away from the scene.  He was dazed, in pain, and too confused to even speak, but he couldn't help but to laugh, sunshine kissing at his pale flesh as it filtered in through the gaps of the wooden banister.  He laughed until he cried, and he cried until he could breathe no longer, and at that point he figured he had laughed enough for one day and definitely should go cook something for breakfast.  He, of course, set the chair right and folded the blanket to take in, but his cheerful humming stopped when he saw that he had lost his page in his novel.  Sighing in frustration, he picked the book up and shook his head.  Oh well; he'd figure it out.

 

It was a few weeks later when Allen had finally caught Kanda alone.  It was nearly a reversal of roles: the android was out late on the porch, staring up at the sky.  Allen joined him, silently seating himself on the porch step beside the android.

"Hey."

"Mm." Kanda seemed engrossed in the heavens, but when Allen looked up, he only saw a clouded, grey expanse.

"What's so interesting up there?" He mumbled curiously, turning his head to the android.

"Everything." Was the only response he received, but the boy wasn't about to just let it end that way.

"I can't see anything at all."

"Sucks to suck." He gritted his teeth in irritation, but tried his best not to show his anger.  A few silent moments ticked by, Allen looking melancholy the whole time.

"I've never seen a star."  This finally made Kanda look at him, subtle surprise in his features.

"So you were born after the light cloud was developed?"

"Well, I was born the year they started using it, actually."

"You don't look twenty."

"Nineteen, actually."

"I see..." Kanda briefly looked back to the sky before returning his attention to the human once more.  "Do you... Want to see?"

"What?"

"Do you want to see a star?" Kanda's expression was completely neutral, but it inundated Allen with an excitement he barely kept under wraps.

"Yeah, but-" Kanda put a hand over Allen's mouth and placed a finger over his own lips.  

He then brought his fingers down upon his arm, seeming to punch something in.  The Brit nearly asked what he was doing, but Kanda had already held out his hand, a pulse emanating from his palm.  Allen nearly had a heart attack, clutching onto Kanda's left arm as the robot continued to seemingly control the world with his right.  Eventually, the expanse around him fell to blackness; a darkness he had never before seen in his life.  He was frightened.  

His eyes starved for something, anything bright, and they landed upon the refulgent ocean above his head.  Not only were there  _ stars _ , but entire galaxies, shimmering clouds tossed up far, far away from earth winked down at him.  The twinkling expanse was topped off but the vivid white orb in the sky.  He gasped, never seeing the moon so clearly before.  

His eyes widened substantially, drinking in all the universe had to offer: it's stunning nebulae and its nebulous lamps that floated, bright and white, yet so much more.  Allen never knew just how  _ colorful  _ the sky was, but nothing could compare to the blue, violet, and indigo arches stretching out across the sky and crashing back down along the horizon.  It was here, where few trees reached up and brushed the sky that a series of green and fuchsia bursts lit up towards the heavens as well. 

There was white all over, spattering beautifully over a canvass that, on no single part, was black alone.  Instead,  the universe gave to him an exquisite mix of a dulled rainbow, like a dark layer of soap suspended evenly over a still body of water.  

He continued to look out into everything, and Kanda continued to simply watch the boy's expression.  He really did look like a child now, his eyes filled with wonder and his mouth agape in a stunned smile.  After a few moments of staring in wonder at the porcelain skin and snowy hair and silver, glittering eyes that reminded him a little too much of diamonds, however, he decided to look up as well.

Just in time to see a streak fall across the sky like the swift strike of a sword.

Allen jumped, a small, adorable "ah!" Reaching Kanda's ears.

"What was that?!  Was that a missile?  A bomb?" The robot kind of pitied the boy who was looking up at him in genuine fear.  He shook his head, a little, natural smile tugging at his lips. 

"A shooting star."

"Is... Is that the name of a spacecraft or?"

"No, no, you're safe.  It's just... A piece of rock hurdling through space.  It won't harm you."

"What if it hits Earth?" Allen felt that Kanda simply wasn't seeing the severity of the situation.

"Well, they usually do."

"Then we're in danger!"

"No, I said you're safe, didn't I?" Kanda flicked the boy's forehead, earning him quite the pissed expression in return. "They burn up in the atmosphere, and by the time they reach earth, they're about the size of a grain of rice, if not smaller."  Allen raised his brows in surprise before turning back to the sky in awe.  

"Why are they so bright?"

"Well, the accepted reason is that they have so much energy as they fall at high rates towards Earth that it's converted into light."

"Are there... Other reasons?"

"Other people like to say they're so bright because they're so filled with hope." He snorted at his own statement, but Allen was intrigued, but only flicked his gaze over to Kanda for a second before returning to space.

"What do you mean by that?" 

"Legend says, if you see a shooting star and make a wish, it'll come true."  He would have chuckled had it not been for his surprise at the determined look in Allen's eyes.  

"I wish... I wish you would tell me about yourself!"

"You don't say it aloud, Beansprout!" Suddenly, Allen was just staring at him expectantly.

Kanda sighed in exasperation, bringing a hand up to bury his face in.

They stayed that way for awhile, but eventually, Kanda shook his head.

"You first."

"Wh-what?" 

"I said," Kanda turned his body to face the  visibly beaming boy more, "you first."

 

As it turns out, Allen had an android of his own long ago, when he was only a child.  It was an M4 unit just like Marie. M4s specialized in care: mostly in the form of parental guidance.  Where as Marie was especially built to watch and teach blind students, M4-NA, or "Mana" as Allen used to call the android, was built to care for orphaned children specifically.  

Allen lived in a small human reserve run by androids (mostly M4s), and it was a blissful and peaceful existence.  The air was still and dry just like everywhere else, and the barren land was bereft of any animals, yet life here was still easier than it would have been alone.  However, one night a gang of men surrounded said reserve.  They were a ruffian people left over from the extremists still alive after the big war, and they were looking for new lackeys.  Needless to say, a boy an intensely red arm and a giant, expression-filled scar carved into his face made the unique—and therefore valuable—candidate.  

"Mana" had seen to it that Allen could escape unscathed and even slipped him the location of an older android, one that could guard the boy.  The gang, however, did what they usually did to resistant androids and scrapped Mana, believing the lie the robot told him: 

"The boy has already left."

Of course, watching that before his very eyes wasn't the end of Allen's story, no.  From his tiny, secret hiding spot between the walls, he could only see what the tiny ventilation holes there allowed, and he remained silent as Mana had earlier commanded he do.  

They ripped at Mana, bit by bit, piece by piece.  These tall, ugly, disgusting men and women tore into his father as if he were a toy.  The experience had left him so shaken that even after the gang was long gone, he stood, trembling and silent in the wall. He hadn't gathered the courage to emerge until the day after, and when he saw the few torn apart pieces of Mana the men left behind, he wept.

The next day, he began his journey.  The several hour trek to the reserve a few miles away left Allen ready to pass out.  He had always been an ill child, then again, were there really any healthy children left in the world?  The pollution coupled with residual nuclear waste and light clouds left nearly every human body completely ruined.  In fact, the light clouds were making Allen the angriest.  The nanobots were constantly leaving a metallic taste in his mouth, and he kept coughing, his throat completely destroyed because of them.  The slight illumination of the bots was handy at night though.  He could see perfectly because of the clouds.  That was, after all, their purpose: light the way for everyone at night so that no secret actions can be taken.  The government was crumbling so quickly that it was hardly more than a few old guys sitting around a table telling the leading gangs politely to behave, but they were still desperately trying to hold onto what little power they could.  

After making it through the hot, dry wasteland separating the two reserves, Allen received close to no consolation at all. The new android, M4-RIAN, was an M4 unit, but he was not focused on taking care of Allen (or children in general for that matter).  Instead, he focused on women, and more specifically, on helping women find suitable men.  This, apparently, required him to spend time intimately with them for some odd reason, and this led to him slowly building up mountains of debt.  Even if the women provided houses and clothing and food, "Marian" insisted on drinking fine wine day in and day out.  

He was a robot; he couldn't even get drunk.

No matter how many times Allen told him this, the android continued in his drinking habits, and to make matters worse, he pushed all of his debt on Allen.  The boy suffered through years of running from debt collectors, doing odd jobs  24/7 , and hiding from angry citizens he had robbed via cheating in poker.   

Eventually he had saved up enough money in his (appropriately dubbed) "I'm getting the hell out of here" fund, and he bought himself a train ticket, several months supply of water and imperishable food, some clothes, and a suitcase.  

He was transported to a deserted village and he took with him Marian's small little dog, Timcanpy.  There were no people there, but it was by a small freshwater stream.  The water source and fairly good soil even allowed for some farming, and Allen thrived there for quite sometime.  He was kind of lonely, though, and eventually he began to think of moving out to somewhere more populated.  He was beginning to feel less human with the lack of social contact,  Besides, he promised Mana he would never stop moving forward, and he had been rather stationary in his village thus far.  Guilt and solitude compelled him to start packing.  The same day he was to move out, money and food stored up to survive another train ride, the abandoned building he had been staying in collapsed.  He remembered screaming, a giant surge of pain, and fuzzy crying, but after that he passed out.  

 

"The last thing I really remember about any of that is your face, actually..."  Allen chuckled nervously as his tale came to an end.  He scratched delicately at the back of his neck as his gaze met Kanda's once more.  Blood rushed up to his cheeks at the sight of stardust dancing in the android's irises.  His expression wasn't tight now; it was soft and sweet and almost sympathetic.  Allen felt his own hands relax, lips parting just a bit in surprise at Kanda's beauty.  It was nearly artificial, like a model or a doll.  His hair was the dark sky itself, long and silky and speckled with lights refracted from millions of miles away.  He nearly blended into the dark expanse around him, as if he was only one small part of the universe.  

That wasn't right though, because Kanda was right here before him, and Kanda was so much more than that.  He was tangible and he was touchable and he was  _ here _ .  His skin shone, and the whites of his eyes were ineffably striking, illuminated solely by the evanescent moon and omnipresent starlight, and maybe that's what he really was.  A star: a galaxy.  Allen entertained the thought that maybe, just possibly, Kanda was his own universe: a tumultuous expanse of emotions and beauty wrapped into a lone man.  

Suddenly, a hand, soft and warm and smooth and long, landed upon his shoulder.  It broke him on his trance, but it only made his blush worse, eyes widening a fraction as Kanda smiled—truly  _ smiled— _ right in front of him, inches from his face. The ephemeral expression faded to a calm, and Allen felt his heart lurch forward, pounding into his sternum with enough force to nearly make him giggle.  He held it down, though, for Kanda's hand shifted from his shoulder to his side, resting delicately on his waist.

"I..." His lips pressed into a thin, frustrated line, and Kanda's eyes flicked down, uncharacteristically evasive.  Allen leaned forward just a tad, head tilting to the side in curiosity.  Kanda couldn't ignore that diamond gaze, so he took a deep breath before nodding.  "I lost someone too."

The boy felt a tug on his soul at Kanda's morose smile that reminded him so much of himself.

"We were both K4 units, but they never called us by our unit titles.  I was still K4-... I was still 'Kanda,' and he was... 'Karma,' but they called me 'Yuu' and his name was 'Alma.'"  Sometime during his narration, Allen's hand had intertwined with Kanda's free one.  "We were both built to be guards, and we worked for the... Mafia boss or whatever the fuck he was.  He was... A character.  Liked to chop people up for fun.  Spent a fortune on hiring engineers just to build pain censors into us.  We were, in short, his toys.  Cut us up and watched as we healed up like magic.  It was amusing for him and Hell for us.  It only got worse when he got bored of us and tossed us to his kids.  They were both young adults, a boy and a girl. Had control issues." A pause filled the air, and Kanda crossed his legs almost uncomfortably in the silence.  "Spent another fortune on programming emotions into us.  Used us for dolls, only...  _ Differently. _ " The implications were obvious; Allen gulped but remained silent.  "Just as sadistically.  Alma was their favorite though.  Alma was..." Allen waited for a string of compliments, for an foggy stream of romantic consciousness slipping from Kanda's lips.  "The most annoying kid ever: Idealistic, loquacious, stupid."  A dry scoff left Kanda's mouth instead, and Allen had no idea why he would have expected anything different.  "But his smile was beautiful.  It was like... A child's, even though he was never had a childhood. Neither of us did.  They liked to break him because he had hope left to break.  I was..." A little intake of breath, "I was  _ boring _ .  Wasn't emotional enough.  Considered it a fault in my programming.

"No matter what, though, Alma, that fucking   _ moron  _ stayed positive.  Had this idea that we could... escape.  I... I was stupid enough to play along.

"They caught us countless times.  Over and over again.  Punishments escalated with each capture.  Eventually they... They..." Allen squeezed his hand; it was an assurance.  Kanda could stop if he needed to, but the gesture was so oddly... Sympathetic.  Completely human.  He had to keep talking.

"They made us fight.  To the death.  It was... It was my fault.  I told them that I couldn't give up if that asshole kept being hopeful and shit.  No one could give up with his presence.  They used that against me.

"I couldn't fight my programming, and Alma couldn't fight his.  As soon as they commanded, we started fighting.  Alma... He wasn't as strong as me.  I was built to be the better guard; he was the better companion.  In theory, we were a perfect pair, but... As enemies... He didn't stand a chance."

"Kanda... I'm so sorry." His thick accent brought the android to a soft chuckle.

"Not your fault.  They trashed me anyway. Turned me off first of course.  Just left me to rust.  The only thing I remember after that is Master Tiedoll waking me up, and, I guess, here I am." 

"Well.  That's... Good, right?" He gave the robot's hand another squeeze, and for the first time in those few moments, Kanda looked up into Allen's eyes.  That smile—incredibly handsome and sweet and glimmering like some sort of treasure—was back on Kanda's face.

"Yeah.  Right."

The two stayed there for a moment, Allen undergoing a mental debate.  Kanda was so close and so beautiful, and the fact that he was an android was becoming less and less significant.  The teen was without words, stuck only with the feelings churning in his stomach.  Before he could act on anything, however, Kanda had a hand on his cheek, thumb tracing the scarlet line on his porcelain skin.  

"You're so beautiful, you know?  Like... Like a constellation."  A silence.  A tilt.  A kiss.  

They were kissing, and Allen's eyes were closed to the world, his senses closed to anything that wasn't Kanda.  Their contact was soft and gentle, normal belligerence forgotten momentarily.  Night wind left butterfly kisses on their skin, and the stars continued in their winking, desperate to separate the two stars beneath them, but they couldn't.  Nothing could. The two neutron stars beneath them were colliding and falling into their own small black hole, and nothing could pull them out.  

The universe stopped its incessant buzzing for a bit, and in that space, filled with a semi-silent susurrus from distant trees, Kanda and Allen separated on their own violation, eyes carrying a dazed mirth, something so blithe that neither could define it.  

There was still a tacit acknowledgement though, one of silent sweet nothings and implicit determination.  

They stayed that way for who knows how long, just staring at each other, but the sudden flickering of the light clouds functioning once more interrupted their concentration.  It, of course, wasn't enough to break it completely.  No, the light merely added a curtain between them and outer space, and all space between them faded as well.

 

Tiedoll suggested the idea of a wedding, but Kanda nearly took off his head for saying that right in front of the whole family.  

"It's not like you guys do a good job at being subtle."  Tim rolled his eyes, and Kanda's sword was suddenly at his throat instead of Tiedoll's.  He screamed and hid behind Allen.  

"C'mon, Kanda.  Don't be mean to Timothy or Tiedoll.  They're just being caring."

"Shut up, Beansprout.  I didn't ask for your opinion."  

"Oh here we go again..." Chaoji muttered, sneaking away from the table as silently as possible.

"The names,  _ Allen _ , JerKanda." The teen stood suddenly from his seat at the table, and his and Kanda's glare was practically sending lightning across the room.

"Some things never change." Marie sighed, a smile on his lips as he finished cleaning up the dishes.  He didn't turn when he heard more shouting and some crashes; Kanda could fix that all later.  Plus, Tiedoll and Timothy's melodic laughter was more than enough for pay for whatever he'd get stuck with cleaning.

 

They were wed on Allen's "birthday."  Something people used to call "Christmas."  It was only the family present, but that's all that Allen and Kanda really needed (maybe it was even a little too much for Kanda). 

A new house was built beside Tiedoll's.  They two were rather attached to the porch that they fell in love on, but they had to move on, even if the move was only a few yards away.  It offered them a semblance of privacy, and Kanda finally felt comfortable to begin constructing an old dream.  A garden soon stretched out behind their house, stark green in a field of barren, ugly, brown rock.  It seemed impossible, like an oasis in a desert of despair, but before long it surrounded not only Allen and Kanda's house, but Tiedoll's house as well.  Timothy had successfully figured out how to construct a safe frequency magnetic field, and the light clouds avoided where they lived, but the androids still functioned perfectly.  After a year or two, they seemed to have a field all to themselves, a large pond in the middle where flowers reached out to the sky. Only, they weren't alone anymore.  Animals hid among the foliage, and Allen was once again awed at the little piece of human existence that Kanda unfolded before him.

Chaoji was just putting up some clear radiation shielding around the property when he spotted two travelers making their way to the pair of houses.  Two men and a woman who looked onto the plot of land as if it wasn't real.

A few more years passed, and a whole new village was built.  It was self sufficient, complete with a man-made (or, rather, android-made) freshwater stream, garden upon garden, fresh air, and radiation protection.  Allen was thriving in the new surroundings, taller and stronger than ever before (though still shorter and weaker than his husband).  Tiedoll, however, had fallen ill.  Not because of the new surroundings, but because of old age.  In all honesty, Kanda had never seen a human survive so long in the sheer level of pollution around them.  He was surprised Tiedoll was as old as he was before he finally collapsed one day with fever.  

The entire village seemed to care about the guy; they brought him food and water and flowers and gifts.  Some people tried to give him precious trinkets of theirs, but he only wanted them to keep their possessions.  He was a humble man, and there was no reason death should change that about him.  He hung on for another good year, almost fooling Kanda into believing that he would make a full recovery.  However, one night the man called Kanda into his room.  It was sad to see Tiedoll try to wander around on his own, so Kanda helped, an arm around his master in support.  Tiedoll, for some reason, thought that was very appealing, and he said as much.

"Little Yuu-chan's always been so cute~.  Glad to see that hasn't changed." The old man laughed at the glare he received before nodding over to his dresser.  Kanda took the hint and half carried his master over without a word.  Once there, he let Tiedoll go, and the man shuffled through the drawers.  "I was thinking about how you don't need your air processing unit anymore... No use in filtering pure air, right?"

Kanda watched in curiosity, very subtly trying to peek at whatever Tiedoll was trying to find. 

"Well, I thought to myself, what could Yuu really use?  More than anything else, what does Yuu want?"  A sudden "ahah!" left the man's lips, and he pulled out a small mechanical cube and two rings.  "As I was saying, while I wondered and pondered, an old saying appeared in my head:"

Tiedoll gestured for Kanda to pull off his shirt, and once he did, the man checked his power cell just out of habit, pushing the tube back into place and snapping the "tattooed" cap back on.  He then popped opened the panel on the right side of Kanda's chest, fumbling around before pulling out the aforementioned air filter.

"'If you live to be one-hundred,'" He shuffled a bit, setting the filter down on the dresser. "'I want to live to be one-hundred minus a day,'" Tiedoll snapped the new machinery into place with ease, a gentle smile on his face as he closed the panel. "'So I would never have to live a day without you.'" He concluded by placing the rings in Kanda's hand: two silver bands, intricately marked by microchips along the inside.  

"You-"

"I thought to myself, 'why think this?' Because it really is an old thing.  Something my mother was told by her grandfather who was told by his so many great grandmothers or something or another, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought it fit you well."

"So this is..."

"A life mediating capacitor."

"They take years to build!"

"I've had a lot of free time on my hands lately." The old man chuckled, slowly meandering over and sitting down on the edge of his bed with a soft "oof."  

"Master, you can't be-"

"Ah, ah, ah~ we talked about this."

"T-t... Tiedoll, you can't really be serious.  What about-"

"Me?  Oh, please, these old bones won't last me more than a month at most.  I just want to see my son happy before I pass away; is that too much to ask?"

Apparently it was, because Kanda was suddenly doing something he hadn't in years: he was crying.  Water streaked down his cheeks which were dark red in shame.  He was ashamed that he took his Master's attention away from himself for years, and he was ashamed he had nothing to give in return.  

"Now now, I said I want to see my son happy.  This isn't exactly what I imagined, you know."

"You... Asshole.  Why?" Tiedoll laughed, shaking his head at the obviously stupid question.

"I love you, Yuu.  Told you many many times before.  You're a son to me."

"But-"

"No buts!  Just go tell Allen right now.  Tell him you have a surprise for him.  He'll probably cry just like us old fools." And true enough, when Kanda looked up from the rings in his hand, Tiedoll was trying his best to wipe at the never-ending streams pouring from his eyes.  Kanda couldn't help but to scoff at him even though he was in a rather similar situation.

"I'm surrounded by idiots." He sighed, arms encircling the man, and the hug was returned with all the force Tiedoll could muster.  

 

Allen really did cry when Kanda brought it up.  At first he wouldn't agree to it.  He couldn't deal with Kanda's life depending directly on his own.  The machine would shut Kanda down as soon as Allen's human body died, and he didn't want that.  He wanted Kanda to live on for the both of them, but after two days of constant bickering, Kanda convinced the man that that life isn't what he wanted.  A life after losing someone else he loved wasn't what he wanted.

Allen put the ring on, but he wasn't happy about it.  Kanda fixed that with a few kisses and the promise of cuddling later even though he was the world's most awkward cuddler.  Allen was obsessed with the practice, though, so he buried his mild discomfort in favor of comforting his husband. 

 

Tiedoll was right after all.  His body quit on him a little less than a month after giving Kanda his gift.  The funeral was somber and silent, and the mourning period seemed to take over the entire tiny village for nearly a year.  It prospered further, but in a slow, maudlin black.  Eventually, however, that too lifted, fleeting as all concepts in life are, due to the birth of a small child that the citizens could collectively crowd around and spoil rotten.  It gave them all hope, and curiously enough, Kanda and Allen both found out that they absolutely hated the concept of taking care of children.  

 

"Ever get tired of seeing me get older?"  The two were quietly sipping tea when the question was brought up, and Kanda looked up from the book he was reading to raise a curious brow at his husband.  It was true that Allen lacked his signature baby face now, but what replaced it was a gentle jawline and soft cheekbones.  It was sweet and subtle just like the man, and Kanda scoffed.

"Ever get tired of seeing the same old thing every day?" It was true; he hadn't changed a bit since they first met. He was designed to look twenty, and even though Allen was about thirty by now, Kanda has yet to age a day.

"Never."

"Then there's your answer." 

"Could have just answered it normally."

"Appreciate when I try to be different, you prick."

"Jerk."

"Sprout."

"And in all these years of marriage you still don't know my name."

"'Course I do.  It's Beansprout."

"JerKanda."

"Fucker." And at some point during their bickering, Allen had come to sit on Kanda's lap, sprawling over him in an obvious attempt to aggravate him.  To top it off, he kept swatting at the android's book with his left hand.  Kanda ended up growling and tackling him to the ground, giving him a merciless punishment of tickling.  By the way Allen giggled, it was almost as if he was still a boy, and from the elation Kanda felt, it was almost as if he was living out a childhood he never received.

Kanda looked down at the boy in front of him, unable to hold down a smile as tears leaked out from those diamond eyes. His little constellation rubbed at his cheeks, a few little giggles passing his lips still.

He leaned down, giving those cute little lips a peck before humming.

"I think I prefer this to your sad attempts at comebacks."

"Oh, shut up, you ass." But they still smiled at each other, stuck in some ineffable moment wrapped in the tacit understanding that was more than machinery and oil, bones and blood.  Two souls peered out from their eyes, and they spoke and danced and laughed, but in reality, Kanda was just giving his husband an incredibly romantic noogie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't started the next chapter, but I'm thinking either mermaid, vampire, or highschool AU? Don't know yet.


	3. Vampire x Fashion Designer AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Blood, swearing, brief mentions of depression, past character death, more fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, this is the last chapter before I start college. I have no idea how frequently I'll update after that, honestly, and I'm sorry. This is the longest chapter yet, and I'm pretty proud of it. Just a warning, though, Kanda might seem a little calmer? Than I usually write him. I'm really sorry if this seems plot-heavy or OOC. I'll put a few little things down in the later notes as well.

The new guy moved in a few weeks ago.  He has been silent ever since.  Kanda Yu wasn't usually one to actually object to the sweet sound of absolutely no sound whatsoever, but it was... odd.  The kid never so much as poked his head outside of the other apartment, at least, from what he knew.

He wasn't the type to stalk a door just to see if the new occupant ever got out or not.  He did, however, notice that every time he returned from work, the sun was setting, and faint stirring could be heard from behind the wall separating their apartments.  By that time, however, Kanda was usually exhausted and just flopped into bed.

The next morning everything would be silent again.

Maybe the guy was just actually the floor mate Kanda had been waiting for all his life: someone quiet who worked a different shift than him and never felt the need to act friendly or introduce himself.  He really shouldn't be complaining, but it was just  _odd_.  The occupant set off warning bells in Kanda's head, and his intuition was almost always right.  He was nearly exploding.  He needed to tell  _someone._

He was afraid that if he told the landlord, Lavi about it, the nosy redhead would investigate.  Then again Lavi was the one who told him about the new guy in the first place: a short, British boy with a weird tattoo on his face.  Kanda could definitely get more information out of him, but the redhead would undoubtedly just drag him into some grandiose scheme.

He went with the safer option: his childhood friend, Lenalee.

Lenalee lived a few floors down (with her brother in the apartment next to hers).  The apartment complex they were staying in was divided into two sides with several floors.  Each floor had two rooms, a middle lobby where the elevator was located, and another two rooms on the other side.  It was supposed to be a good deal for privacy, and Kanda  _did_ like privacy.  The new guy that moved in, however, just rubbed Kanda the wrong way.

He told Lenalee how he felt, and she seemed to know just what was wrong.

 

"You want to get to know him!"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you want to make friends with him!  That's what it seems like at least.  Unless..." She yawned, her head tilting to rest on her door frame.  "You think he's actually suspicious in an 'ax murderer' kind of way."

"You've been spending way too much time with Lavi."  In response, she giggled, but that was followed by another yawn. Lenalee worked the night shift: 11 p.m. until 7 a.m.  She wanted better hours, but what can you do when you're a first year police officer and they stick you with the shittiest shifts?  Either way, Kanda's questions were keeping her from sleeping, so he needed to leave.  It was his day off, personally, so he might as well not spend it ruining the next work day for his friend.

 

* * *

 

Another week or so passed without Kanda ever seeing a glimpse of the guy who moved in.  He was suspicious, sure, but there were bigger issues to worry about.  Namely, there was a string of violent murders in their small city, and worry buzzed through the citizens like an electric shock.  He was just getting off the elevator when, yet again, he heard the newest update relayed off the lips of various apartment owners.  

"Did you hear?  Another one was killed: a grown man this time."

"Hear?  I walked past the crime scene on my way back from work this morning!"

"If you left a little earlier, that could have been you."

"Don't say something like that!"

Kanda had to admit, even he was a little scared.  That didn't mean he was going to suddenly stop going to work.  He was, after all, an up-and-coming fashion designer.  He had to get his new line prepared in time for fall, and no serial killer was going to stop him.  

Sure, he thought big, but in reality, he was still licking nervously at his bottom lip piercing.  Poor thing: the spiral barbell was only a few months in his skin and it was already subjected to his anxious torture.  He was a wreck, and currently he was running on coffee, tea, and desperation.  His panic was definitely there, but he buried it well.  That didn't mean he didn't feel it though; he was terrified, almost unreasonably so.  Even if all of the murders took place at night while he traveled mainly during the day, there's a first time for everything.

He wasn't the only one to think so either; everyone at the bus stop seemed anxious.  More whispers were tossed back and forth.  Although no one actually knew any details of the crimes, what they construed through rumor and whim was terrifying.  Kanda physically had to force himself to not jump onto the bus the second it arrived.  He was disappointed in himself to say the least, but the speedy boarding meant at least his stupid cowardice was pleased.  

 

* * *

 

The studio he worked at was actually owned by his foster father.  Froi Tiedoll was a famous artist—famous meaning people would pay hundreds to thousands for his works.  That being said, building a separate room for Kanda to set up shop in wasn't a big dent into his wallet.  Kanda was still determined to pay every cent back, but he had to finish this line first.  

 

Kanda's studio was filled with pinks and greens, blues and blacks, life and death and everything in between.  His inspiration for his debut line had to be important to him, so he chose the one thing that meant the most to him.  Pictures of lotuses lay scattered around, laying on tables, chairs, and the floor.  He had even stuck a few up on the wall with tacks.  A book, _A Guide to the Basics of Buddhism_ , lay overturned under a pile of white satin.  Mannequins stood proudly around his studio, dressed in the androgynous fashion he specialized in.  He was an elegant individual, and that was reflected well into his long, flowing dresses, skirts, and cardigans.  It was also evident in the muted colors and sparing yet powerful accessorizing  he employed.  

He had spent hours upon hours pricking his fingers on needle points and cutting up cloth.  He was going to lose it soon.  He needed some fresh air.  

He stepped outside, a cup of tea in hand, and noted that the sky was dark.  It was late; he stayed a bit too long.  That wasn't unusual, but it meant he had to leave soon.  A shame, since he was in the middle of a tiered dress.  He could pull an all-nighter again, but the last time he did that, he nearly killed Lavi when the guy said good morning too loudly for his liking. He checked his cell phone for the time: 9 p.m.  The next bus didn't come for an hour, so he still could clean up his workplace a bit before leaving.  He did just that, laying out a few fabrics and tools for tomorrow as well.  When he finished, it was 9:45, and that left him with just enough time to jog to the bus stop.  

The street lights provided more-than-sufficient lighting, and traffic wasn't bad either.  He was a block or so away from the bus-stop when he was suddenly shoved over.  Completely over: onto his side.  Some idiot had run out of the nearest alleyway and right into Kanda.  A few links in his loose-knit cardigan probably broke, and his jeans definitely had a tear in the hip, but the man was far more concerned with the asshole who just ran him over.  

"Shit!  Watch where you're going!" He sat up belligerently and wiped some dirt off of his sleeveless turtleneck.  His eyes flicked up to a boy who just so happened to be apologizing profusely.

Kanda was almost taken aback and how absolutely adorablethe guy was.  

The most prominent feature was undoubtedly the dark red ink etched into his skin: a star above the left eye that bled down, over the gentle slope of his brow bone and eye lid into a twisted, distorted cross that spread across his cheek.  Other than that, the stranger seemed almost stuffy with his vest, button up shirt, and dress pants, but it was endearing nonetheless.  He had a big mess of soft, fluffy, white hair—completely white, not a blonde streak in sight—and light skin that reminded Kanda of moonlight.  The stranger's eyes were silver, far too luminous to be merely grey.  Their gazes met and locked into place; this new boy seemed to be lost in thought.  

A nearby car blaring its horn brought them out of their trances, and Kanda smacked away at the hand that was trying to help him up.  He stood on his own, dusting off his pants, and glared down at the kid.  

"S-Sorry!  I didn't mean to run into you!" 

"Yeah, no shit." His hiss seemed to shock the smaller boy, who was obviously expecting something more dismissive.  That surprised look, however, was quickly covered up with a fiery rage.

"Well, Jesus, you don't have to be an arse about it!  I said sorry!" Kanda's eyebrows went up.  Weird tattoo on his face, British accent, and...

"You're pretty short, aren't you, Beansprout?" Now, a complete look of mortification overtook the smaller man's face.

"The name's Allen, bastard!"

"Kanda, nice to meet you, neighbor."  His smirk threw off the short man for a second, but recognition soon crossed his face along with a pitiful horror.

"You're..."

"Nice to finally meet my...  _Flatmate,_ as you would say.  Now, if you don't mind," he went to step away from the conversation, but Allen caught his wrist.

"Wait!" His eyes widened slightly, and he turned back to the small... Teen maybe?

"What?"

"You uh, you won't tell anyone-"

"Shit!" Kanda suddenly shouted as he heard the telltale sound of those old bus breaks stopping in front of the little blue sign two blocks down.  "Let go, Sprout."

"You can't-"

"What the fuck?!" Kanda tugged his arm back harshly, but the boy's grip only increased.

"You won't tell anyone I was here, right?"

"Why the fuck do I care?!  Let go!  I'll miss my-"  the re-initiated eye contact just so happened to be a big mistake on Kanda's part.  He was met with gold, glowing irises and a devilish smile.  He froze, head suddenly feeling incredibly light, and stumbled back a bit.  He wanted to look away; he  _needed_ to, but he couldn't.  

"You look a bit pale; maybe you'd like a ride home with me?" Silence passed over the two, and Kanda physically felt his eyelids drooping.  He was the third party to some pathetic display of himself, and he was pissed about it.

"No fucking way, creep." His lips finally spat the response out, half slurred yet enraged.  He ripped his hand from Allen. The trance-like event immediately fell to pieces, and the boy stood shocked in front of him.  When Kanda dared looked again, those platinum eyes were blown wide in surprise.  The boy himself seemed to suddenly have a pallor that wasn't there earlier.  He could have sworn... Just a moment ago the guy was tanner with... No, no.  It must have just been that weird spell that took over him.  "Take a picture; it'll last longer."  With that, he shoved a shell-shocked Allen aside and ran to catch the bus right before it pulled out.  

 

* * *

 

Kanda couldn't help it; as soon as he got to his room, he ripped out his sketch book and started designing.  His apartment was neat, sure, but his desk was  _pristine_.  His apartment had four total rooms: a bedroom which was attached to the bathroom, a kitchen, and the living room that was big enough for Kanda to shove a desk and a foldout couch into.  The slightly cramped space didn't hinder his design though.  Especially now, when inspiration hit him, Kanda didn't even register his environment much at all.  Ruffles and bunches and bubble skirts were scrawled upon page after page of the black, hardcover booklet.  His pallet of choice consisted of silvers, whites, blacks, and intense blood-reds.  He kept the look sharp and classy, but also incorporated a few aspects from his own cultural background.  In the end, he had finished the beginnings of a very promising new line of gowns, suits, dress-garments, and formal-casual wear.  The digital clock he had on his work desk was glaring at him.  It was 3 a.m., and he needed sleep.  

Rubbing his eyes, he blindly searched around for his brush.  He was about halfway through detangling his hair when he suddenly heard a knock at the door.  

Well, whoever the fuck was crazy enough to try to get him to come to the door at this hour deserved at least a "fuck off," so he stood up, swearing and continuing to send his brush through the silky locks in his hand. 

"Who is it?" He opened the door with a growl, and a nervous-looking Allen stood before him.  

"A-ah, hey K-Kanda.  I, uh,-"

"What the fuck?  Haven't you already caused me enough headaches for one day?" Kanda was half-tempted to just slam the door in his face after the eerie experience earlier, but... for _some_ reason, the thought alone made him feel a spike of guilt.

"Listen!  I'm being serious here."

"Okay?"

"I, uh, I lost my room key."

"And?  Mine won't work on yours if that's what you're asking."

"No no, it's just... Well, Lavi isn't actually in his office.  I'm not sure where to find him..."

"He's probably out partying." Kanda threw his hair back over his shoulder, tilting the brush in his hand back and forth absentmindedly.  "Usually goes out every Friday and Sunday night.  Sucks to be you, huh?"

"You have to be joking..."

"Wish I was; I wouldn't have to be talking to you at three o'clock in the fucking morning.  What kind of dipshit doesn't keep a spare anyway?"

"It's been a rough day, okay?"  The Brit whined, head resting against Kanda's door frame.  "I just wanted somewhere to sleep..."

"The carpet in the hall isn't that bad."

"You prick!  Don't make me ask you!"

"Ask me what?"

"Ugh!  Just, can I sleep on your couch or something?" Kanda wasn't exactly smart, but even he knew letting aggressive, evil-seeming strangers spend the night in your house wasn't a bright idea.

And yet...

"Got twenty bucks?" The strange boy seemed about ready to explode.

"Fuck you; I'll find someone else."

"Mm, your loss.  My couch is  _extremely_  comfortable."

"I don't have money to spend on kissing the ass of someone like you."

"Then offer a service."  That hung in the air awkwardly for a few seconds, a blush spilling gradually onto Allen's cheeks.

"A... service?"

"Nothing vulgar, shortshit.  Mind outta the gutter."  The taller of the two reached out, taking the brush a few times through the white hair before him.  "Model for me."

"M-model?!" 

"You're missing your ears; what a tragedy.  Yes, I said model for me.  Is this all-natural?"  He stepped closer, suddenly interested in how snow-white the roots were.  It was amazing.  

"Y-yeah, but, I-"

"Come on; it'll just be for some sketches and whatnot.  I design clothing. You just have to try a few things on; no runways or anything."  Kanda stepped back into his room, already expecting an agreement.  After a few moments of Allen's vacillation, he received one.

"A-alright.  Just... Just once though, okay?"

"Just once."  

 

Turns out, Kanda did have a comfy couch; it was a fold out.  The plush, navy blue carpet tickled Allen's feet, and the sophisticated modern-Asian look the place had going on was really appealing.  It was cool without losing a certain level of warmth; Allen liked it.  As a host, Kanda was pretty decent too.  He gave Allen a few spare covers and pillows, full access to the kitchen and bathroom, and an opportunity to pet his dog.  The little chorkie was a terror, and her name was Golem.  Ironic, considering how tiny she was, but she kept up her guard duties well.  She almost bit off Allen's entire hand, after all.  Thankfully, Kanda took that as a cue to put her back in her pen for the night.  As he left for his bedroom, he spoke a little bit about having a husky, Mugen, back home too.

Allen was, well, scared honestly.  His fingers kept twitching, twitching with excitement and something darker.  Kanda was just in the next room over, filling up a bowl of water.  He could kill him so easily; he should, really, considering the Japanese man had caught him earlier during one of his...  _escapades_.

If word spread to Lavi that he was going out, unauthorized... If word spread to someone even higher than Lavi...

The designer appeared stupid and reserved enough, though; exploiting him seemed like a much better option. That thought process came to a screeching halt when he suddenly grabbed his own right wrist and squeezed.  Pain was one of the only ways to subdue his other side; Allen refused to take advantage of someone's kindness. Panic was the easiest way to let his darker self take over—which is why he relented so easily earlier.

The idea of killing Kanda... It was wrong, and though he was a monster, he wasn't that low.  He relaxed and took a deep breath just in time.

"If you need pajamas you can borrow some of my old clothes."  Kanda was leaning against the door frame, head resting on the wooden trimming and hair falling like midnight ink in a waterfall at his side.  Kanda was, quite frankly, one of the most beautiful sights Allen had ever laid eyes on.  His lashes were thick and full, his body was lean yet toned, and his legs—holy shit he had nice legs.  Every feature on him was as sharp and intimidating as a lion, but somehow, he still managed to resemble a crane more.  Elegant yet fierce and ready to strike at any given moment; maybe he wasn't truly as easy of a target as he seemed.  The baggy cardigan he wore gave him a comfortable domestic look, though, so if Allen wasn't so great at reading people, he might have missed the strength that teemed just beneath the surface of that beautiful face.

"Yeah, that would be great actually."  He offered up a smile of his own, and Kanda snorted for some unknown reason before turning and exiting the room.  This guy, this really weird  _stranger_  that he let into his room on a whim, was definitely not the first person to eye him up.  He returned with a pair of baggy shorts and a t-shirt.  

"Honestly, I usually sleep naked, so I don't have very many pajamas." 

"A-ah... I see.  You'll, uh, you'll wear something tonight, right?"  Kanda quirked an eyebrow up, tossing the clothes to Allen almost indifferently.

"Why would I do that?"

"C-cause I'm here!" 

"It's not like we're in the same room.  If you don't come barging in unannounced, you won't seem my junk.  It's that's simple." The vulgarity in that statement made Allen turn even paler, but that only brought amusement to Kanda's features.

"Just... get out, okay?  I want to change." He sighed, laying the pants beside him and clutching the t shirt with his right hand.  "Actually... Don't you have anything longer?  Like a... A sweater or?" 

"Are you kidding me?  You'll die in something like that."  

"No, no, really I'm always cold."  Kanda wasn't really satisfied with that response.  On the contrary, his features screamed distrust.  Allen held his nervous smile regardless, hoping he'd just accept that and move on.  Quite honestly, he couldn't stand these stuffy clothes much longer.  He had been in the same dress clothes all evening.

"You're a shitty liar."  Kanda clicked his tongue before heading back into his room.  Allen took that opportunity to swap pants.  

"I have this ugly-ass Christmas sweater, and this thing from my college." Kanda announced as he entered the room once more.  Allen looked like an idiot: a crisp, white dress shirt and wrinkled, baggy cadet blue shorts that sagged down his ass just enough to reveal the pastel pink of his boxer briefs.  

"Ah, the uni one."

"'Uni' huh?" He chuckled, handing over his pullover hoodie.  "Now is that all you need, Beansprout?"

"Like I said earlier, the name's Allen, but that's fine.  Just go be naked somewhere else now."  

"Fine, fine.  I'm going."  He rolled his eyes before once more exiting the living room.  "Feel free to sleep in tomorrow. Saturday's my day off."  The call carried an oddly considerate tone, and Allen couldn't help but to smile.  It had been some time since he's lived with someone else, and even though Kanda was a complete asshole, he was better than silence.

 

* * *

 

Light had just barely begun to beat back at Kanda's curtains when he heard a knock on his door.  Not the door to his apartment, though, the door to his bedroom.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, swinging his legs out over the side of his mattress.  Thankfully, he chose to wear boxers last night just in case the kid had something to say.  He chose to forego the piercing and contacts until later, rubbing his eyes as he slipped on his glasses and slid open his lock.  

"What is it?" He grumbled, pulling back on the door, and what met him shocked him awake.  

"Kanda, Kanda, please, I need in my room.  You have to find Lavi; he has to be somewhere." The kid was sickly-looking, and sweat held wisps of his white hair fast against his pale cheeks.  He kept swallowing, and before Kanda knew it, the Brit had both hands (one bare and one gloved) on his shoulders.

"Please.  I have... I have medication in there.  I need it,  _please._ "

Well that certainly jolted him awake.  "Shit, seriously?" Lavi was probably asleep somewhere, but that could be anywhere from a friend's house to the library.  He clicked his tongue before turning back to his room.  "You go to your door; I'll be there in a second." 

"B-but-"

"Just two seconds, Sprout." He cursed again, searching around on his counter until finding a few Bobby pins.  He didn't even bother with a shirt, dragging Allen's nearly-limp ass out the door before arriving to the room.  It took him a total of two minutes to the pick the lock, and once he ripped the door open, Allen flew inside.  Not really knowing what to do, he stood there awkwardly, waiting for the shorter boy to return, occasionally glancing at the elevator, then the staircase at the end of the hall.  He really hoped no one suddenly popped up and saw him half naked, holding open a door like some idiot.

It took a moment, but when Allen re-emerged, he was still shaking, a weak quality to his legs.

"S-sorry about that.  I just... Couldn't wait anymore."

"Don't be sorry." He growled the usually comforting phrase, "just tell me why you didn't tell me last night that you take meds?"

"A-ah, well, um... I... Forgot."

"You forgot?  Your own meds?"

"It's easy to do!  They're new.  For my, uh, low iron count." Kanda looked as if his built-in bullshit detector was screeching, but he shook his head.  He wasn't going to invade the kid's privacy. 

"Whatever.  Don't forget again."

"I'll try not to..." Allen mumbled, eyes trailing back to his pitch-black room.  "Actually, Kanda... Why didn't you just do this last night?"

"Picking locks is substantially easier when it's not three in the fucking morning, Sprout."

"Ah... I guess I should just..."  Kanda knew he probably shouldn't say anything, but he didn't like where Allen was trailing off to.

"You can sleep more in my room if you want."  Shit.  He sounded desperate and lonely.  "I don't care either way."  That did little to cover it up, but the kid didn't seem to mind either way.

"You, uh... You mean it?"

"Why the fuck would I say something if I didn't mean it?"  The hopeful, albeit weak look to Allen's face morphed into irritation.

"I don't know!  Agh, you're so frustrating!" And Allen pushed him out of the way (even though he wasn't quite in his way in the first place), stomping right back into Kanda's room and plopping down on the couch.

 

* * *

 

"I, uh, I'm starting to think that this was a bad idea."  They were in Kanda's studio.  It was Monday, and as per Allen's request, it was around 7 p.m.  He was sleeping all morning, it seemed.  The pale boy kept pacing around, eyes traveling to all the mannequins dressed elegantly around him.  He felt like he was in the middle of a gala.  He felt like he didn't belong. 

"Just take off your shirt, Sprout.  It's not that hard."  Kanda, on the other hand, was finding great amusement from watching the wonder fluttering over Allen's features.  His studio, currently, was filled with only his finest works.  He set it up just to intimidate the kid.  However, that meant he only had formal wear on display.  

"I just... I'm not comfortable with this..."  Allen's right hand timidly reached out to brush across a fabric, a brilliant red that pooled out across the table like blood.  It felt completely out of place in the earthy and stormy tones, but Allen was drawn to it.  

"Too late to back out now.  This should be your size.  Go put it on."  He handed over over an outfit; it was one of the more casual ones that he had already taken down.  The blazer was black, but he had taken an eternity to sew in a subtle, growing petal pattern into the jacket.  The pink outlines wrapped around garment, stretching from the left pocket to the center of the back then to the right shoulder.  The white, sleeveless button-up top was also a bit unique; it had a high, gathered collar that the thin cotton fabric pooled around.  It was almost antique, but in a modern way.  The pants were pretty normal, except they had little... Water lilies?  Lotuses?  Sewn into the back pockets.  Other than that, they were just a pair of black jeans with silver trim.  "There are mirrors in the dressing room.  I'll pick out accessories once you get back." And with that, he shooed the boy away.

 

Allen, was, well, nervous to say the least.  He... He couldn't actually tell if he looked good or not; all he knew was that the clothes seemed to fit.  He kept his gloves on, like always, but his bare feet padded quietly against the cold tile flooring. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could make a run for it?  The changing room was attached to Kanda's studio, but it was also a direct bee-line away from the steps that would lead to the front door.

"You finally done, Sprout?" He jumped at the voice that yanked him up from his plan.  Kanda was right at the end of the narrow hallway, walking up the stairs to freedom, two cups in hand.  He was sipping from the one, but as he approached Allen, he handed the other over.

"What's-"

"You spill any tea on that blouse and you're dead meat." He then half pushed Allen back into the main room of his studio. Unfortunately, he was once again met with the lines of tables, the party of mannequins, and the judgmental gleam  in Kanda's eyes.  "Do you like it?"  He jumped a little bit, fumbling with the styrofoam cup and lifting up the plastic cover on it.

"Ah, oh, wait a minute; I didn't try it yet."

"Not the tea, idiot, the outfit."  Kanda was now leaning against one of the long wooden tables he had set out across the polished studio floor.  Of course he meant the outfit.  Allen felt like an idiot.

"O-oh!  Yeah, it's uh, really fancy actually..."

"Fancy?"  The designer clicked his tongue, disappointment evident.  "It's supposed to be semi-casual."  

"No, no, not that kind of fancy.  I just, uh, I'm not used to wearing high-end clothing like this?  It makes me a little nervous, honestly."  

"I'm a starting designer; that's about as high end as a sweater your grandma knits for you."  Kanda took an amused sip from his tea before shaking his head.  "Glad you like it though.  Looks good on you."

"Really?" Allen tilted his cup up as well, but seemed to be a little off-set by the taste. 

"Something wrong?"

"Ah, it's just... You, uh, didn't get any milk in this?"

"Fuck no.  I hate milk in my tea."  Kanda took another sip, brows raised as if emphasizing his point.  "Be happy I ordered you extra sugar."

"'Extra'?  It's barely sweet!"

"Exactly how I like it." 

"You're sick." All Allen received was a smirk in return.  Soon Kanda was circling him, looking only half-interested as he drank at his tea.  

"You look good, but..."

"B-but?"

"Doesn't suit you personally.  It's not your style."  The stylist stopped behind him, brushing something off the bottom of the blazer and sighing.  "Guess I'll have to find another model to torture for this one.  Mind if I take a picture anyway?"  Allen whipped around at that, incredulity spreading across his features.

"A-A picture?" 

"Yeah, you know," Kanda slid his smart phone from his lotus-print bomber jacket.  "Click click, picture?"

"I-I don't know, I'm uh... Terribly camera shy."

"It's not going anywhere.  I just need it for reference."  Kanda seemed suspicious, and Allen once more felt the need to just eliminate his problem altogether.  This guy could really be an inconvenience to him in the future.  

"Really, I mean it.  No photos."  Kanda stared at him for a solid minute before rolling his eyes and stuffing his phone back into his pocket.  Allen watched the designer search around, and felt an ache in his hands and his teeth and his  _head_.  The need to kill was strong, and maybe it was just his reemerging panic, but he never before felt an instinct as poignant as this.  Kanda was turned, looking through a pile of fabrics and mumbling to himself.  He moved to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, distracted by the intent to search for a sketchbook.  It was the perfect opportunity.  Despite his usual charm and kindness, Allen was losing to his other self.

Allen quietly set his cup down on the table behind him, taking a step closer to his unsuspecting victim.  He felt a spike of something primal in himself, but that spike, although silent and intangible, sent Kanda spinning around.  His eyes were wide and his free hand was now enclosed around a pair of scissors.  He seemed to know nothing and everything all at once, and Allen panicked as the element of surprise slipped from his fingers.  

He needed to play something off, put on any kind of façade.

He decided to fall flat on his ass in front of the guy, laughing nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"S-sorry!  I-I slipped!"  Kanda was incredibly guarded; he resembled a cat backed against a wall.  He wasn't letting down that stance he had either, and his grip on the scissors in his left hand only tightened the longer Allen stared at him.  

There was no fooling Kanda: that feeling—that overwhelming sense of existential dread and superficial hatred—that was bloodlust.  

Allen had just tried to kill him.  

"You... _slipped_?"

"Y-yeah."  Allen knew he was busted, but he also knew that if he acted innocent, he could drive the other up a wall.  

Still, it was odd that Kanda was able to pinpoint his attack like that... Unless. He went to lift his right hand from the ground, a sewing needle dropping off his skin.   _Perfect._

Turning his body just so, Allen concealed the hand with a gasp before ripping the tip through the heel of his palm.  It was rather superficial, but Kanda would buy it.

"I-I even think I cut my hand."  He raised it to show that there was indeed a slit there.  This was the ultimate deciding factor.  Kanda's eyes widened, and he dropped the scissors, immediately yanking Allen from the ground.

_Just as I suspecte-_

"You idiot!  You'll get that on the fabric!"  Panicking, he reached around, grabbing a useless scrap of brown cotton and slapping it into Allen's palm.  "Blood never comes clean!  You need to be more careful."

_Oh_

"That's... All you have to say?"

"For now at least."  Kanda turned the boy's wrist in his hand, checking to make sure there weren't any dark marks on the cuff.  "You scared the shit out of me."  That was deep, almost like Kanda was trying to say two things at once.

"I know, I know.  I fell on a needle is all.  It scraped my hand."

"How the hell does a needle scrape anything?"  Allen shrugged.  It appeared his original suspicions were wrong.  They just stood there for a few seconds, Kanda waiting until he deemed it safe to remove the fabric from Allen's palm.  More silence passed between them as Kanda walked over to pick up the sketchbook he had been looking for.  Without taking his eyes off Allen, who was now sipping sadly at his tea once more, Kanda pulled a pencil out of his pants pocket and flipped open his book.

"I don't know what kind of bullshit you just tried to pull," Allen's brows shot up as he glanced to Kanda, surprised at the blunt approach to the elephant in the room.  "but I'll warn you ahead of time.  If you touch me, I'll kick your ass."  He spun the mechanical pencil around his slim fingers as the Brit looked up to him in pure shock.  He really had nothing to say to that, but the mere mention of the situation hit Allen hard with shame.  

They stood there like that for awhile, Kanda letting his words sit in and Allen trying to form words of his own.

"I... I should leave."  Regret, hesitance, a gaze that he couldn't keep.

"Can I draw you?"  It was all met with the view of Kanda lowering the small sketchbook from his cheeks to lay open in his left palm.

"What?"  Incredulous, he almost didn't process the question asked of him.

"I said," he pressed the tip of the graphite to the paper, nodding once in Allen's direction.  "Can I draw you?"  A raised brow, evidence confusion.  He just tried to  _kill_ this guy.

"Shouldn't I... Leave?"  A smirk in return for all of his thoughtful dubiousness.

"You agreed to model for me.  You're not getting out of it that easily."  

 

Allen didn't really know what to do.  He had been standing at the same spot, sipping on his tea, for at least ten minutes.  In fact, he had run out of tea awhile ago and had resorted nibbling on the styrofoam cup.  Kanda was still doing whatever he was doing, occasionally telling Allen to move his arm or stand a little differently.  He was growing bored, and he wanted to sit down.  Quite frankly, he just wanted to go home.  He had let his darker side nearly take over again.  He had been keeping up with all of his supplements; why couldn't his body stop craving this?  

The boy bit down harshly into the cup before him, ripping off a piece of it.  He was torn from his thoughts, however, when Kanda scoffed, eyes still glued to his paper.

"You have the patience of a two-year-old, I see." 

"Hey, buzz off!  I'm thinking."

"And there's a first time for everything."

"You haven't even known me for a week!"

"Pretty sure I've pinned down you're an idiot though."

"Me, the idiot?  That's  _you_."

"What did you say?" 

"I said you're an idiot.  Might as well have not gone to Uni at all; couldn't get accepted in any actual universities, could you?" That smirk was gone, replaced with a genuine frown of animosity.

"Community college is just as good as professional bullshit."

"That's a lie, and you know it."

"At least I'm not a short-shit pale Beansprout."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you know, so white that if you step outside during the day you'll catch fire?  Pretty sad if you ask me, Beansprout."

"The name is  _Allen_!  You, you," his cheeks turned a little red in anger, "JerKanda!"  For the first time since he started drawing, Kanda looked up, eyes slightly widened.  He obviously wasn't expecting that comeback, but he couldn't hold down a chuckle because of it.  It was short and soft, but it moved Allen's heart.  He smiled back at the man who was now shaking his head.

"I'm done."

"Trying to argue with me?"

"Drawing you, Sprout."

"Al-len."  He huffed.  "Let me see." 

The three pages Kanda had filled were covered in sketches of Allen, messy and blurry and not quite displaying every feature of his face.  They were mainly for the outfit after all, and that was displayed quite well.  Kanda had been experimenting with the fit, evidently, because that was what he paid the most attention to.  Kanda had obviously spent these past moments focusing on how the folds collected around Allen's waist, his hips, his arms, his legs and his butt (he noted with slight embarrassment).  He tried to turn the thin page with a gloved hand, and when that didn't work, Kanda turned it for him, almost hesitant.  The next page was just a sketch of a face.  Wavy hair sprawled across the page; curls framed the cute, somewhat rounded cheeks there, and led up to a rather adorable, low, small ponytail in the back.  Two round eyes stared jovially up at Allen, a tiny smile dancing on the cute lips.  The nose was thin but sweet, almost like a fairy, and the eye lashes were long and full.  What really struck out to Allen was the long, jagged scar on the left side of the face, the same tattoo-covered mark he received years ago.

"Th-this..."

"It's you."  Allen hadn't seen his own face in... God, who knows how long?  Years, over a decade.  It was... Unreal.  The eyes, the smile, those two little dimples in his cheeks, and just the general idea that Kanda had spent time making it.  "I mean, a few things here and there aren't really in proportion.  I think I messed up your right eye a b-"  The designer stopped talking.  There was a sniffling at his side.  He looked up just in time to see tears sliding down Allen's face, a gloved hand covering his adorable pink lips from view.  

Fuck, Allen was even a cute crier.  Kanda was doomed.  

"What's the matter with you?" Allen just shook his head in response, and Kanda understood that as "give me a moment." He waited, fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of the paper.  He was pretty impatient, but it wouldn't kill him to shut up for a second.

"I... I just..."  His glance traveled back up to Allen immediately, curiosity bubbling under a seemingly indifferent expression.  "It's so... It's really... It looks so amazing, and I-"

"Don't you pull something like 'I'm so ugly' out of your ass."  Allen blinked, completely caught off-guard, and then suddenly, he started laughing.  

Kanda was slowly dying; this kid's giggle could rival an angel.

"Ah," he breathed out, but really, he might as well have just knocked Kanda over with one of his wings, "quite the pep talk there.  I appreciate it."  The artist stood, clicking his tongue as he carefully tore the page out of his book.

"I'm absolutely serious.  Why would I ask anyone who wasn't attractive to model my clothes.  I'm classy."  And as he handed over the paper, a small blush crept up the back of his neck and onto the tips of his ears as he realized exactly what he had just said.  Allen was an even worse situation; his cheeks were nearly glowing crimson, and his eyes were blown wide.  

"...Kanda?" 

"Just… just shut up and take it.  It's yours.  You're done; you can go home." He couldn't quite meet Allen's eyes, instead focusing on the light blue walls around him, staring holes through a poster on sewing safety guides.  Damn, he really should invest in some mirrors for this place.

"Thanks."  He felt a tug on the paper, but it definitely wasn't enough to pull it away.  Allen was hesitating, and Kanda was two seconds away from just throwing it at him and storming out.

Instead though, he was suddenly stuck in place, entire face contorting into shock as two, little, wet lips planted themselves on his cheek.  He stood frozen for a second before whipping his head suddenly to Allen.  The British boy, however, was already headed to the changing rooms, a tiny skip to his step.  It was... Shit it was so cute.  Kanda subconsciously brought a hand up to cup his cheek, probably completely red at this point.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold down that trembling smile that rose to his lips.

 

* * *

 

" _It's all a lie_."  Allen stood in front of his mirror, staring back at the nothingness there.  The nothingness that was him.  This was all he was.

" _You didn't show him._ "  He wasn't alone; he had the wonderful company of his darker side.

" _He doesn't know._ "  Water fell down his cheeks, rolled off his chin.  The sink below him  _tinked_  softly as the clear droplet dissipated into the red water there. 

" _You're a monster, Allen_."  The nothingness in the mirror continued to speak, continued to bring him down.  His lungs felt constricted; he couldn't breathe.

" _It's only a matter of time, Allen_."  His teeth ached, and his bleary eyes looked down to the overturned pill bottle still sitting by the water's surface.  There was no one in the water either; no one.

" _You'll slip up, and I'll take over, and-_ "

"No!"  He plunged both hands suddenly into the sink.  The pill bottle clattered onto the ground and rolled to safety, diluted red flew all over the mirror and all over Allen.  He hissed, licked his lips, and felt his head spin.

" _You'll kill him with your own hands, Allen._ "

"No, no no no no." He gripped the edge of the sink, gritting his teeth together as he tried to keep himself up.  Everything was pulling him down now, and there was no helping hand in sight.

" _Just like you did with Mana._ "  His legs gave and he fell to the floor, sobbing like a child.  

In his bedroom hung a quick sketch of his face done by his floor mate, his next-door neighbor.

His newest on the list of potential victims.

No, he couldn't think like that.  Kanda wasn't just some object, he was a person: a pretty nice person under a blanket of douchebag, but a pretty nice person all the same.  

He saw some kind of beauty in a freak like Allen.  

A freak who was disowned because of his abnormalities.

A freak who spent his childhood in the circus, raised by a clown.  

A freak who had a fucked up face from when said clown tried to push him away, when Mana tried to save himself and pushed Allen right into the sharp rocks on the path they had been trudging for hours.

A freak who had an even more fucked up arm.  One that wasn't even real.  A black thing, a metallic  _thing_ to replace the demonic, red appendage he was born with.  

Allen cried because for a freak like him, nothing good could stay. 

 

* * *

 

“Just once” turned into once a week; once a week Allen would model for Kanda, and Kanda would sketch him out and run some new designs by him.  It seemed he was done with this line, something he was incredibly proud of, and had just begun a new one.  

"It's called, 'Keep Walking.'" Kanda finally conceded one day, and Allen's eyes immediately flew up from the page to meet Kanda's.  Surprise was etched into his pale features, but the designer could only laugh at that.  "Before you ask,  _yes_  it's based on you.  That's something you say a lot, right?  I've seen it on a few shirts of yours."  He took his sketch book back, flipping casually through the pages.  "It's not a phrase that I'm personally in love with, but... it's... the least I could do for the inspiration."

"I... I inspired this all?" Allen mumbled incredulously, eyes locked onto the stretches of dresses and garments and outfits and accessories compiled into Kanda's book.  The designer's mood stiffened when he glanced up to see just how adorable Allen was being: hopeful eyes, cute slumped shoulders, and a quivering smile.

"It's not a big deal.  Don't make one out of it."  He was blushing now, he knew it.  He was trying to hide it.  If Allen saw-

"Kanda?"  Shit.  Shit he was caught.  He'll never live this down. 

"Yeah?" He chanced another peek up, but this time he found a despondency written into Allen's disposition.  He straightened up a bit, suddenly concerned, and Allen stood as he began speaking again.

"I... I've been hiding something from you.  This, uh, this is... I'm not... I'm not as beautiful as you think I am."

"I never said-"

"Be quiet; just let me show you something." Allen's jacket was already tossed onto a nearby table, and his vest was soon to follow.  The British boy hesitated, his right hand on the glove of his left hand.  He stood that way for a good solid minute, but when Kanda tried to remind him that he didn't have to do this, he only wanted to do it more.  The glove revealed a shiny black surface.  Allen looked like he wanted to run and hide as he slowly opened and closed the prosthetic fist.  His hand looked more like a claw, more like a monster, but he knew he wasn't done. 

His shirt was the only thing left, and his hands shook so hard that he could barely even get all the buttons out.  Thankfully, Kanda finally took the hint to stay silent.  He just watched Allen, curious and a little anxious.  

The button-up slipped off and fell to the ground.  Allen's lean chest was marred with a large assortment of scars, but what stood out more than that was the above-elbow prosthetic limb that Allen wore.  It was just like the hand: black, shiny, not human.  Two bent lines of black ink led up from the end of the limb to Allen's shoulder, and there, little starburst of arrows flew from them.  The arrows covered his shoulder, pectoral, side, and probably wrapped around the back too.  Allen felt alienated.  Like a creature for show.  He regretted this; Kanda could have just sat there and thought he was the most gorgeous being on the planet, but he took that option away from himself.  He chose to do this.

"It's... So high-tech" what Allen didn't expect was for Kanda to reach out and take his left hand, amazement in his features. He looked like he had just been shown a million dollars, and honestly Allen wouldn't doubt that cost.  "My brother, he has prosthetic fingers.  They're not nearly as nice as these, though.  This is... How could you afford..."

"I work for the government."  He ended up blurting it out before he could stop himself, and now he felt like an idiot.  It wasn't a lie, sure, but it was a little bit of a secret.  Kanda didn't question further, though; he was good at not being nosy. He simply took the prosthetic and looked and looked and looked at it.  He was practically entranced for at least five entire minutes.  300 entire seconds.  Allen's face was on fire.

"Well," he finally let go, leaning back in his chair.  "I won't ask how you got it, but I will tell you that it makes you even more..." Hesitation, a bitten cheek.  "' _beautiful_ ,' as you put it.  I like the tattoos too."  As he spoke, he was already beginning to take off his sleeveless turtleneck.  Allen seemed hesitant about that, but he wasn't going to just tell the guy to stop.  Instead, he took it as an opportunity to lean down and scoop up his own shirt, beginning to put it on once more.  He was almost done, just two more buttons to go, when he peeked up at Kanda.  The designer was bare-chested, and  _that_ in itself was quite a sight to see.  He was just about to mentally scold himself for the bit of liquid that was beginning to build up around his tongue when Kanda spoke up.  

"This here, feel it."  Whatever gods there may or may not be, they were cruel and merciless: testing Allen like this.  What a fucked up world.

The artist was pointing to the tattoo on his left pec; Allen had seen it before from when he slept over in Kanda's room.  He never thought much about it; it looked like a fancy three with branches shooting out around it.

"What is it, your mental age?" He scoffed in an attempt to cover up how embarrassed he was, but reached forward nonetheless.  Surprisingly, Kanda's skin was rough in some patches.  It was uneven.  Allen's eyebrows rose in surprise, and Kanda laid one of his hands over the pale one on his chest.

"It's an Om, actually.  Buddhist symbol."

"You're Buddhist?"

"I follow a few of it's principles."  

"Okay... Why-"

"I got it tattooed over a scar."  _That_ explained it.  The slightly more elevated section of skin was easy to find if you felt around.

"O-oh... I... Won't ask you if you don't want me to."  Silence passed between the two, Kanda looking pensively to the side, Allen growing more flustered with every microsecond.

"I got it in a car crash." 

"A car crash?"

"Yeah."  Kanda met Allen's eyes now, hand lowering off of the Brit's.  "My... My boyfriend, when we were... Stupid and 16, we weren't in a good place: an orphanage.  They had bad living conditions, a few cases of abuse, bad education..." He stopped for a second to collect his thoughts.  Allen was respectfully silent; Kanda could go on for years about this place; he could tell.

"He knocked out one of the employees and stole his car keys.  I told him it was a bad idea, but it was  _something._ He didn't really know how to drive, but I didn't either.  He took the wheel, and we left, and..." A little bit of panic seeped through his voice, so he stopped once more to compose himself.

"We got a few miles before we heard sirens; he accidentally let his blinker run for a mile or some dumb shit like that.  He said something like, 'if they catch us, we'll have to go back there.'  Then, like some nihilistic asshole, he decided that... That it would be better to die together rather than go back.  We were in a wooded mountain area, and he tried to swerve right through the guard rails.  We..."  He once again took Allen's hand, this time unintentionally.

"We were supposed to go right down the hill, rollover and die and never go back to that hellhole, but... I panicked.  I grabbed the wheel and tried to push it the other way, back onto the road...  Alma yelled at me, and everything was in slow motion.  He... He asked me if I really loved him, and I screamed yes like he was some kind of idiot... but... before I knew it, there was a bang.  We hit a tree instead.  I had a branch through there," he brought Allen's hand to his tattoo once more.  "But Alma... Wasn't wearing a seatbelt like me, so he... His head.  He went forward, and he flew back, and... He was dead.  I saw him die."  The artist stopped to take a breath.  There was no use in losing his composure.  "I... I didn't, though.  I got... I got a life that was so much better.  I..." Years upon years of therapy had yet to drive into his heart everything his head knew, but he bit his tongue.  He wasn't going to bury Allen in his chin-high depression.  

"Tiedoll adopted me, supported my art.  He bought me this place.  Got me help.  Was there when I got this too."  He smiled fondly, glancing down at the tattoo splayed across his flesh, at the hands covering it.  "You have to meet him some day." 

"Already inviting me to see the parents?"

"Maybe."  Allen, of course, was joking, but Kanda's tone was more serious than expected.  It didn't hold the same solemn attitude as early; it was just... Hopeful: wondering.  

"A-ah, I-I..."  His metallic hand came up to nervously scratch at his cheek, turning away for a moment while he let himself get over his state of bright red cheeks and stuttering lips.  When he turned back, well, the way Kanda was staring wasn't helping to calm the excitement tossing in his stomach.  He couldn't look away from those gunmetal irises, but Kanda seemed to be mystified in the same way he was.  Allen thought briefly of the first time he tried to use a trance on the artist, but this was much more effective.

He felt like he had two options, gaze into those dark eyes or stare hopefully at those light lips.  

Their noses were suddenly touching, but neither of them really comprehended how close that meant they were.  

They were lost.

They were locked onto each other.  

Well, they  _were_  until a blaring ringtone broke out from Allen's pants pocket.  

The moment was broken, shattered into pieces.  Allen jumped back, and Kanda jerked away so much he feared he'd topple his seat over.  Allen, still in a state of shock, stuttered and sputtered as his hands flew to his back pocket.  He stared at the screen, taking a few seconds to process the number.  

"I-I have to take this!" And he seized that opportunity to scamper away, leaving a shirtless, confused, and disappointed Kanda behind him.  

 

* * *

 

Although the moment-that-shall-not-be-named was unbelievably awkward for the them, Allen and Kanda both had a talent for ignoring absolutely everything that they didn't want to speak about.  Despite being awkward and shaky, their relationship stayed relatively the same, and after a few more weeks, it began to steadily improve.  

Currently, they were on Kanda's fold-out couch, watching a show on his laptop.  Allen was seated comfortably beside the designer, his body wrapped in a few blankets.  Turns out, Allen really did get cold easily.  Kanda was right beside him, maybe even too close for the "get together" to be considered exactly casual.  Neither of them were willing to speak up about it, though, fearing an awkward revisit of their previous mishap.

"Not fond of this character."

"Him?" 

"Aye.  'E seems like a raight arsehole."  Kanda chuckled beside him, and of course that made Allen look away from the screen and to his right.  His chin was now seated on Kanda's shoulder, the dark ink lines there sitting under his irritated pout.  "Wot?" 

"You're..." He struggled for a second, "It's cute.  The accent, I mean."

"C-Cute?"

"Yeah.  When you get mad you do that accent thing.  'S cute."  Allen's cheeks quickly became florid, and he played with the hairband he had in while grumbling.

"Can't 'elp it.  Grew up in Yorkshire." 

"I like it.  It's great to have a little Brit here with me to comment on the show.  Maybe you could even start narrating it." Kanda looked away from the screen for a brief moment to flash Allen a smirk.  He had lived in America for most of his life, and based on how watered down Allen's accent was, the other was here for awhile as well.  The pale boy pulled the covers in around himself even more, resembling an angry, British burrito.

"Well Ah'm just chuffed.  Now 'ush up n' watch."  Of course it was exaggerated, but that only added to the light-hearted anger of the situation.

"Of course, your majesty." 

Kanda seemed happy, and that was great, but with every silent moment that passed between him, the sound of blood smashing through his veins resonated louder and louder in Allen's head.  For some reason, he thought it would be a great idea to just keep his head at level with Kanda's heart, have his life force temptingly whisper in his ear.  He swallowed, mouth salivating with desire. He wasn't panicking; he had no reason to.

Why was this urge so strong?

Kanda’s guard was down; there was no way he could sense any ill intentions from Allen, right?  Just a little tear, a rip, _a bite_

and the guy would be bleeding out all over the floor.  

“ _Better sooner than later, right_?”

His mind whispered as a tongue reached out to brush across his bottom lip.  It would be so short and so good, and no one would ever have to know.  He felt the familiar rush of darkness spreading from his mind to his fingertips, like the blooming of a blossom, the blood plume rising after a bruise.  The soft plush of his blankets crashed down his back, the covers once encasing him now limply hanging from his shoulders.  He was losing himself, but Kanda, the trusting idiot that he was, kept his eyes on the screen, completely distracted.  Allen grinned, his canines far too prominent, his bloodlust far too thick.  

Kanda was a fool.

In that exact moment, the door slammed open, the panting redhead on the other side, completely exhausted.  Kanda sat up straighter instantly, almost as if he was already on edge, and Allen—who was half leaning on the guy—fell unceremoniously to his side as the other stared at the door.

“Lavi!  What the hell?”

“Lena...  Lenalee.  She was, someone attacked her.”

“Shit!" The designer stood now, tension obvious in his frame.  Of course he knew Lenalee's line of work was dangerous, but he didn't expect an incident so soon in her career.  "Is she okay?” Allen watched the exchange, throat dry, head throbbing, and inner demons ebbing away.

“Shaken up, but okay.  She’s downstairs.”  Kanda was gone before Allen could even get a word in.  Lavi’s single eye traveled after the man before landing abruptly back on the Brit.  He suddenly wasn't panting anymore.

“Don’t hurt Yu.”  Allen stopped his readjustment, eyes widening in shock.  He sat still for a second, half standing, half sitting.  For a second, he thought that maybe he misheard the landlord.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me, Al.  I’m serious.” He adjusted the straps of his eyepatch, now glaring at the shorter boy.  Allen stood, both black and white arms crossing over his chest.  He raised a brow, erecting himself a little straighter since he was being challenged.  

“You’re serious?”  Lavi glanced at the stairs once before stepping inside, the door closing behind him.

“Listen, if you don’t dump him soon, you’re really going to end up killing guy.”

"We're not-"

"Al!"

“But I haven’t even-”

“Don’t start.”  The redhead scolded, forming two loose fists at his sides.  “Don’t even start.  I could feel that... That _aura_ from a mile away."  It was evident by his tone and shaky anger that Lavi was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  "…I’m providing you with free housing.  Just take your supplements, kill the guy you’re looking for, and leave."  Unknown to Allen, Lavi's heart was about to crumble.  To have to yell at the boy, the same kid he's helped through all of his transformation... It was hard.  

"I... I can’t house you any longer if you’re doing absolutely nothing productive.  We have at least a dozen casualties, and this guy has the nerve to attack a police officer?  To attack Lenalee?  In mid daylight?  Are you doing anything at all?” Allen seemed shocked.  In his entire life, Lavi hadn’t once scolded him so fiercely.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to get attached to the humans.” He narrowed his eyes, taking a few steps towards his superior.  

“Says the guy  _fucking_  my best friend?”  An indignant expression flashed through Allen’s features.

“We’re  _not_ -”

“Save it; I don’t care.”  He felt a finger jab his chest; Lavi was towering over him now, before him in the blink of an eye. “Don’t fuck with his head, don’t fuck with his heart, and do not kill him. It’ll..."  A harsh swallow, a quick flick of his tongue over his upper lip. He was truly doing his best to seem scary while also trying not to terrify his friend too much. "…It'll... be the last thing you do, u-understood?”  There was no way Allen could deny a direct order from a Pureblood like this, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset about it.  Once prey was designated, it was hard to let go of.  However, before he could so much as growl in defiance, Lavi was grinning like an idiot once more, almost as if the confrontation never happened.  “You wouldn’t want a bad report, now would’ja?” He ruffled the white hair before him just in time for the door to open once more. The redhead now turned, smiling brightly before running over to jump at Kanda.  

“Gah!  You idiot!  What the hell were you doing?  I had to go talk to Lenalee without you!”

“Yuuuuu~!  I’m sorry;  I had to stay behind to assure Allen everything would be alright. He’s super scared about all these attacks, right, Al?”  He glanced behind, his normal attitude disguising the killer just beneath his flesh.  Allen was impressed.

“Y-Yeah, these incidents are pretty terrifying.”  He gave a nervous chuckle, scratching his cheek as he grinned. 

“Tell me about it; the asshole attacked Lenalee while she was on duty. He got away too...”  Kanda sighed, still working on prying Lavi off of him.  There was a moment of silence a little too long, and then… “Beansprout, maybe you should take some time off of work.”  The two looked incredulously at Kanda, the redhead’s grip wavering just enough for the artist to throw him off.  

“W-what?”

“I said, you should take time off.  You work the night shift, right?  That’s dangerous.”

“Yu!  I’m sure he’ll be just fine!”  Lavi chimed in as he picked himself up off the ground, rubbing his poor, sore buttox.  

“He’s two pounds at most; there is no way he’d survive an attack.  Look at him."

Lavi was about to interrupt again, but Allen beat him to it.

"I've taken self defense classes.  I'll be fine, Kanda."  Something told the designer that for once, Allen wasn't lying.  He wanted to object—to say self defense wouldn't save his ass forever, but those two silver eyes looked at him so defiantly. Allen could protect himself, and that was that.

 

* * *

 

Allen was supposed to come over for another movie today.  Kanda and he decided on something of the horror genre for a change, but at the moment, the designer was more concerned with the horror on the news.  

Details of the string of murders had finally been released.

Victim after victim; they all had their throats torn open with two to four, sharp objects.  They were all left to bleed out at the scene, but many times, there was an odd lack of blood there.  Some speculated different ideas: bodies being moved, blood and organs being taken to sell on the black market, etc.  The police were listing through evidence, little hairs found at the scene of the crime, a target profile of victims, and a few little curious items found at the different locations.  

What really got Kanda's attention, though, was the broken, bloody, silver key found in the alley of a recent homicide.  

Kanda would never deny being a pessimist, but something about that key in particular really creeped him out; it made him feel unsafe.  

And the way the screen suddenly went black?  Yeah, that was pretty scary too.

"Boo~" Kanda visibly flinched, settling only as Allen's voice registered in his mind.  He turned to the Brit, who was currently standing beside the couch, holding his television remote.

"What the fuck, Beansprout?"

"If you watch too much of that, you'll go crazy~.  Where's the movie at?"

"Not sure there's much difference in the content of either."  Kanda sighed, lifting the lid of his laptop and starting it up. "You weren't even supposed to be here for another thirty minutes.  I didn't make popcorn or anything."  Kanda went to stand, but a small, pale hand pushed him back onto the couch.  He looked to Allen, confused, but the boy could only laugh in response.  He sat down next to Kanda, a little too close for comfort, and then giggled again when the man tried to scoot away.

"I'm not in the mood for popcorn.  Just start up the film."  Now  _there_ was something to be scared about.  Allen was always in the mood to eat.  

"...Yeah, sure..." Still suspicious, Kanda got everything set up, slipping the DVD into the computer and letting it play.  He sat back in the couch, already engrossed by the opening ambiance.

After a few minutes, even before the starting credits had properly finished, Allen's head was on his shoulder.  Kanda figured he was tired or something, maybe even sick.  He glanced down, but he wasn't going to move him if his guest truly was feeling unwell.  

The cast was being introduced: a bunch of stupid teenagers like always.  Kanda somewhat regretted the cliche pick already, but the rating was so high.

He jumped suddenly, brought out of his thoughts by something on his lap.  He glanced down, blinking a few time in questioning because, yeah, that was definitely Allen's left hand on his thigh.  His eyes traveled to the Brit's, and were rewarded with a playful little smile.

Kanda just rolled his eyes.

"Very funny." And he pulled the hand off of himself, setting it back in Allen's own lap before returning his view to the screen once more.

About ten minutes later, and the hand was back, giving his leg a nice squeeze.  There wasn't really anything interesting going on, so Kanda didn't bother to pause the video as he shot Allen another "done with your shit" look.  Only this time, the coquettish expression that greeted him stopped his warning dead in his throat.  It seemed to be the exact reaction that Allen wanted, because upon seeing Kanda's face, he smirked a bit.

"These kind of movies are pretty boring, don't you think?"

No response; Kanda had no idea how to utter out anything at this point.  He scrunched himself a little further into the corner of the couch, but Allen just adjusted, turning to face him now.  This time, his pale, right hand was slowly slipping up from Kanda's knee, tracing along the stitching of his jeans, and Allen's mechanical fingers were resting on his shoulder.

"I'm sure I could offer something a bit more entertaining~?"  Kanda seemed almost ready to panic.  He wasn't good with people; he certainly wasn't good with this.  

"What the hell, Beansprout.  Get off!" He tried to push the smaller boy away, which in reality, should have been easy, but instead the grip on both his leg and shoulder tightened.  

Allen wasn't going anywhere.  

"C'mon, just one kiss?"  Kanda was literally on the arm of his couch now, trying to get away from the situation.  

"I'm serious!"  He was nervous.  Kanda trusted Allen, but... He had on that same expression that had captured the designer so fiercely when they first ran into each other.  He wasn't going into the same type of...  _trance_ , but he certainly felt uncomfortable.

"Fuck off!"

"You almost kissed me before; at the studio, remember?  You were so close~."  He leaned forward, and with nowhere else to go, Kanda just screwed his eyes shut and hoped it would all be over soon.  

"C'mon, c'mon, don't be that way~"  He was holding his breath when it happened.  They kissed, Allen held it, swiveled a tongue across Kanda's lips, parted them, and only pulled away after brushing the obstructing teeth there a few times.

The designer somewhat felt like throwing up.  

It's not like he didn't want to kiss Allen.

He just didn't want it to happen like this.

"You..." When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with a smug expression, so much unlike the Allen he knew.

"Me?" He leaned in again, nose brushing against Kanda's.

"You dick!" And Kanda pivoted suddenly, kicking a shocked Allen with all the force he could muster in his left leg. Seemed like years of martial arts classes paid off, because Allen flew to the other side of the couch. Kanda fell back, spine crashing against the floor.  He hissed, but was quick to stand once more, just in time to be shoved up against the wall. Instinctively, he found his footing, barely keeping Allen pushed away.  The space between them was crucial.  If Allen got closer, he would be at the disadvantage.  

Endless images of not only fighting instructors, but also the bullies in his old orphanage flashed like a film reel across Kanda's thoughts.  It was that same strength, but also was that same malice.  Kanda felt it and so much more.  The desperate bloodlust: confusion, frustration.  It leaked from Allen's eyes almost like tears.

"What the hell is wrong with you, huh, pretty boy?" Kanda gritted his teeth, meeting Allen's eyes.

Only, they weren't really Allen's.

The gold was back, consuming his irises, and Kanda was too shocked to really process much more than that.

"You could have made this so much  _easier_  on yourself if you would have just been normal."  They were in a grapple of sorts, both keeping the other at bay via a strong grip on their shoulders.  The alien color was still boring into Kanda from below.  He was taller; he was bigger.  He thought he was stronger.  Why wasn't he winning?

"What the fuck are you talking about?"  It seemed like that was the question Allen wanted to hear.  A smirk, and both eyebrows briefly nudged up in a way that would have been suggestive in any other situation.

"I'm a vampire, Kanda.  I'm going to kill you.  Right here."  The designer scoffed, but that only made the tight grips on his shoulders become even harder.  Whether it was in anger or in excitement, Kanda couldn't tell, but he wasn't about to lose face in front of... In front of that stare.

"I'll believe it when I see you turn into a bat and fly, Sprout."  A little, mischievous hum.  A glint to his eyes.

"How about this instead?"  And he grinned, flashing a set of very convincing, white fangs at the other.  For a split second, Kanda felt his arms go numb, felt everything freeze up.  They obviously had to be fake, but...

"You... Didn't have those..."  Then, almost if he had been reading the artist's mind:

"They're real,  _really real_ ; I swear."  The tone bled excitement; bled a violence and a love for it.  "Let me  _show you._ "  He lurched his head forward again, but Kanda kept him back: adrenaline pumping thick through his veins.

Now that he thought about it, that kinda made a lot of sense.

The weird sleeping patterns, the being so pale, the odd looks he gave when Kanda got a paper cut...

"...Get... Get off.  You're not acting like yourself."  He couldn't doubt Allen.  Even if this  _was_ Allen.  Even if that paired with confusion was the only reason he hadn't snapped the guy's neck by now.  Even-

"Well, I'm not Allen."  Oh.

"Excuse me?"

"I said," a giggle, far too dark for the beautiful boy before him. "'I'm  _not_  Allen,' or didn't you hear me?"

"Ah," as much as he was hoping to intimidate Kanda, to spook or shock him, he received a chuckle in return.  "You shouldn't have told me that part."  

Before the vampire knew it, he was suddenly crumpling down.  

As all-mighty as you may be, it always hurt to have your balls kicked in.  

Hands were on his arms—he was being lifted, flipped. The world was suddenly spinning, and he let out a cry as his side crashed against the carpet.  He could faintly hear a dog barking in the background before everything went fuzzy.

"Guess who's a black belt," Kanda now had a foot nestled into the guy's waist.  " _Bitch._ "

 

* * *

 

Images of gray and black and dust floating by sunshine-opened windows.  

The smell of rust, of blood and decay under chipped nails.  Rain washes it all away, but when the sun shines, the dirt is back again, and something just as disgusting is dribbling past his lips.  

Images of the agony, of the torture of it all.  

The transformation: the feeling of one becoming two.  The feeling of being split in half—ripped by the same seam again and again and again.

And there was the dribble.  The dribble of iron.  Liquid copper in his mouth, staining him as a machine.

A soft hand was there, running through his hair.  A mirthful tone that did nothing to distract Allen from the dribble, from the drip.  

From the thirst and the hunger and the anger and the lust.

The greed and desire for blood.

A glutton in its finest quintessence.  

Allen lay, strapped to a clear white bed, the old shack around him in shambles.

There was a cooing Pureblood at his side, and the weening water-iron mixture soon replaced the normal dribble.  It was hell—hell on white sheets and hell with all of his limbs strapped down, his mouth held open.

A nightmare, only a memory.

A nightmare—only reality.

A nightmare.

Only still trudging through his life.  

 

When Allen next came to consciousness—because he evidently couldn't withstand a little kick and a little flip—he was somewhere completely unfamiliar.  

Well, no, not exactly.

The sheets, the comforter, the floor, the walls, the full-body mirror that he was nothing within, that was all different.  It was soft, and it was simple.  It felt like an empty house—a half-filled soul.  Too modern to be comfortable, too comfortable to be up-to-date.  It was a strange atmosphere.  Foreign and new.  The smooth fabric under his finger tips looked back at his drowsy eyes with pink little lotuses in full bloom, like diluted blood splotches sprouting from the deep blue background of the blanket.  

All of this was new, but it had a familiar chilled warmth to it. 

The smell, however, was something he and his sharp nose knew well.  Coffee, takeout, spearmint, and tea.  A splash of rain and a hint of basil.

There's no doubt about it; he was in Kanda's room.

To be specific, since there was a mattress below him, a headboard behind him, and a blanket atop him, he was in Kanda's bed.

His eyes blew wide, the previously hazy consciousness going into overdrive.  He didn't understand; the last thing he remembered was getting ready to go over to Kanda's apartment for a movie.  He got dressed, took his supplements, and... And...

A delicate knock at the door had Allen scrambling to push himself back under the blankets.  He didn't know what else to do.  He had to assess the situation before he could face Kanda.

Unfortunately for the boy, the designer wasn't that dumb.  

"Rise and shine, morning glory."  The door squeaked open, soft and delicate.  "It's 6 in the evening.  I know you're awake." Allen nervously gripped at the fabric in his hands.  What had happened between them?

"A-ah, Kanda, I just, um," he slowly rose from the covers, knowing his rouse was well-over, and flashed a nervous grin at the two grey-blue eyes that were capturing him, shadowed by midnight lashes and illuminated by the peach-colored sunset. 

"Pretending to sleep; I know."  Kanda walked over to the nightstand, plucking out two small, clear disks from his eyes.  

"Y... Yeah... Exactly that."  And awkward silence passed between between them as Kanda swapped the contacts for his glasses, and then proceeded to remove his lip piercing.  Allen just... Watched.  He somewhat felt like he was invading a very private moment of Kanda's life right now.  He felt that even more so when the designer just pulled off his shirt, throwing it into the hamper across the room, and worked to undo his belly button piercing.  Allen thought he might just die, so he turned away, trying to put it all together again.  

He took his supplements... Was about to brush his hair... And then?  Then... 

"That's the fourth time, isn't it?"

Kanda's voice shocked him out of his briefly-running pondering.  He looked over, and was shocked even more to find the guy climbing into bed with only a pair of black boxer briefs. 

"Ka-Kanda!?"  He was about two seconds away from completely scrambling off the bed, but Kanda merely settled under the covers, not quite looking at Allen yet.  

"You don't remember, do you?"  And there it was.  The stare.  The almost plaintive look in those stoic eyes wrenched at the vampire's heart.  Oh, God...

"What..." A swallow, harsh and thick: throat dry and throbbing "What did I do?"

Kanda scoffed, the sad expression going away, replaced with his usual fiery sarcasm.  "You came onto me, told me you were a vampire, and then tried to suck my blood."  The pallor in Allen's face told him everything.  He felt he should elaborate.  "It wasn't really you, though... At least, that's what you-... They said."  Nausea was crawling it's way through the Brit's heart.  He was... He... He did...

"You... You're... I didn't-"

"You're not the only one who has taken self defense classes, idiot."  

Kanda was playing it off like nothing, maybe trying to skirt around the subject.  He never did that.  Ever.  Kanda was the most direct person he knew, and yet- 

"Listen, if you keep making that face, I'll seriously hurt you."  He was turning now, his long side fringe following along with his movements as he rested an arm on the headboard.  Allen noticed that his hair was now down.  "That's what happened.  I kicked your ass.  That's it."  The signature glare was back, and Allen was flicking his eyes to the door.  If he ran now, maybe he could... He could... What could he do?

"What d-do you want?"

"...What?"

"To keep quiet about this.  You want something, right?  I work... I—the government can... Money, f-fame," he was subconsciously gripping at the sheets for dear life.  He wanted out so badly, and yet he was anchored here so soundly. Anchored by fear and a terrible sum of doubt, disappointment, and heartbreak. His position—if he lost his cover, then surely, _he_ would come for Allen, and the half-breed would lose precious preparation time.

"Beansprout, are you an idiot?  Why the hell would I want something from you?"  No treachery lay behind those gunmetal eyes; Allen knew that well—knew Kanda was a man of honor and unbroken promises, but... But...

"You can't just be... Just be  _okay_ with me being a  _monster_!"

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what I can and can't be okay with?"  Shock.  Like lightning striking the ocean—like a single, pillar-like bolt digging through the waves and the dark gallons and the sea life alike in an attempt to reach something at the very bottom.  "I don't care what you are.  To me, you're just a little Beansprout to whom I credit some fashion inspiration."  That took awhile to set in.  The gripping was gone, the self-loathing was wavering.  Allen felt... Allen felt...

He felt happy.

So he smiled.  Grinned even, reaching out to give Kanda's shoulder a punch.  

"You're such a selfish idiot.  I could have  _killed_ you! Four times now!" Admitting that alone affirmed Kanda's evident suspicions regarding Allen's intent the day Lenalee was attacked. The Brit hadn't even noticed the designer knew he was about to be attacked before Lavi opened the door that day; Kanda still, however, didn't seem to mind at all.

"But you didn't.  I'm still here.  Getting rid of me isn't easy, you know."  

"Well  _apparently._ Killing you isn't easy at all."

"No," Kanda's usually stiff shoulders relaxed, slumping almost drowsily.  "It's not.  It would take more than some overgrown teeth to take me down."

Another witty remark was on the tip of his tongue, but Allen failed to get it out.  Instead, his eyes blew wide as a very familiar feeling of hunger overran his mind.

He suddenly remembered why he blacked out.

"Kanda, K-Kanda, I need to go."  Surprise, a little hint of fear.

"But you-"

"I-I need—right now I go I have to, I-" Allen already had one leg swung out over the side of the bed when Kanda grabbed his wrist.  Right now, the boy was completely overstimulated.  He could feel every pulse of Kanda's heartbeat in his thumb, and each time it slammed against his arm, he felt as if a crane was dropping bricks on him from above.

"Wait, Sprout, I-"

"Let go!  I can't keep control like this.  I need to take-" a sudden pain ripped through his skull.  

Supplements.  

He couldn't handle another round of them—disgusting, watery, dusty, dry iron building up in his throat.  Fangs aching. Eyes screwing tightly in pain.

"Blood.  Blood, I need to find someone.  I-"

"What about me?" Silence.  A clear, bubble of silence—as black as the sea at night—two glowing, red eyes aflame.

A dry swallow.

"You can't."

"I won't get turned, right?"

"You... You," he could feel his chest heaving with the will it took not to just push Kanda down and rip him open.  "No, but-"

"Then take mine."

" _I_ can't, I-"

"I'm giving you permission!"  

The sun was setting.

The sky was a dark mauve.  Allen was naturally gravitating towards the other man—towards the human before him.

"I... I don't... It might hurt."  And yet both of his hands were now on Kanda's shoulders, and yet both of Kanda's hands were now atop his own.

"That's okay... Just so long as it's you."  They both knew what he meant; maybe Allen even more than Kanda himself.

 

In reality, it was quicker than expected; a few laving drags of a tongue; harsh, sharp pokes like a two-pronged fork; and the feeling of being drawn from.  

Emotionally, it felt as if hours were stretching on.  It was painful, fire ripping through his flesh, alarms sobbing in his head. He could grit his teeth and bare it if he tried hard enough, but some part of him wasn't prepared for it.  His hands twitched, aching to fight back.  His throat closed and thorns ripped through it with the instinct to scream.  How anyone else managed this, he'd never understand.  He never even asked Allen if he would die—he trusted Allen.

Allen, with his averted gazes and little hamster-like mannerisms.  Stashing trinkets and money away, eating whatever he was offered and then some.  Falling asleep, ungracefully yet beautifully as he sprawled his limbs across Kanda's foldout couch.

It was hard to think of all the good times at the moment—death so easily around the corner.  Just a fumble away, a step too large.  A gulp too voracious.

To a fault, he trusted Allen.  That was already far too obvious.  He was just…

Blinded.  Blinded by the light peeking out from the shadows in his eyes—the effervescent smile and those crystal clear tears.  

Like a record, Allen was playing for him.

Faintly, he thought his life was flashing before his eyes—his life since he knew Allen.

Allen.

Allen...

Allen was... 

He was... Pulling away now.  

Lightheaded, Kanda struggled to even remain sitting up as Allen's tongue worked its way around his neck to clean up whatever was left.  It would have been relaxing, maybe even sensational, if he wasn't about to pass out.

"I think I took a little too much."  The confession was sheepish, and through a garbled haze, Kanda could barely understand what it meant.  

"Y-Yeah..."  Slumped against Allen, the designer continued to pant—something else he failed to notice until just now. Evidently, that wasn't supposed to happen, because now the vampire was panicking.

"K-Kanda?  Oi, you're, uh, are you okay?  Kanda?"  

"I think... Hospital, I need..." 

"We can't!"  Purely by accident, Allen's sudden stiffening and terrified twitching of his hands caused Kanda to sag over, tumbling to lay on his side.  A shaking hand reached up to cover the wound on his left shoulder.  Shallow breaths, a strange pallor, glasses crooked, hair disheveled—Kanda looked up to the Brit, an uncharacteristic fear in his eyes.

"If it... Keeps... Bleeding..."  Shock, terror—Allen reached down, trembling fingers pulling Kanda's hand away to reveal two blotches of blood.

"I-it shouldn't be.  I... I used... I licked it—I-" dragging his tongue across his thumb, Allen reached down once more, rubbing away the two droplets building atop the holes.  Another two formed after, and now, even he was panicking.  

"That's—I've never seen that before—I..." And he scrambled off the bed, watching as Kanda pathetically tried to sit up.

"Sprout, where are you-"

"Lavi, Lavi—I have to get Lavi!"  And he ran out, leaving a disoriented artist behind, blood dribbling down the slope of his collarbone and into the sea of inky hair beneath him.

 

"Yu!  Yu!"  When Kanda woke up, he was still in his bed, and he was being shaken by two tan hands on the side of his arms.

"...Lavi?"  It was all fuzzy—he couldn't really see.  Blinking his eyes excessively, he palmed around the bed, but in a show of courtesy, the redhead slipped his glasses on for him.  

"Yu!"  And the next thing he knew, he was being crushed in a hug.  

"Get off of me!"  His arms felt weak—limp at his sides.  Kanda had no way to push this guy away, so he just waited until the embrace was over.

"We really thought you were going to die, Yu..." Strangely enough, when Kanda overcame the little daze in his head, he saw tears welling up in Lavi's left eye.  It was hard to see, even now.  The room felt colder than before, and the tan face before him was lit only by a nearby lamp.  He didn't understand what was going on, but he was also too tired to do much more than scan the room, spotting a little Brit stashed away in the corner.

"Beansprout?"  And now his eyes were back to Lavi, his own hand rising to a scratch at a collection of pink splotches on his shoulder.  "What's going on?" 

 

To say there was a lot of explaining to do would be an understatement.

 

"So you're  _both_  vampires?"  Two nods.  "That whole licking shit was supposed to heal my neck?"  One nod.  "It didn't." Another one.  "You wrapped it up?"  Lavi nodded this time.  "And then you noticed a rash."  Allen bobbed his head.  "And now it itches like  _hell._ "  Kanda didn't need a nod to know that much.  He was already rubbing the area angrily, trying to get rid of the sensation without tearing his skin off.  He was still woozy, but the four cups of orange juice he was given helped drown that out with unprecedented amounts of sugar.

"I think, maybe, you're allergic to us."

"Ah, surprise surprise."  Read: not surprised at all.

"Seriously, Yu!  I'm trying to explain this."

"And I'm getting it.  People just tend to be a little testy after a near-death experience, you know?"  He was nearly hissing at this point, and Allen visibly shrunk at those words.

"Yeah, well, it's not going to happen again, right Al?"  And for the first time since he woke up, Kanda wore a non-aggressive expression.  He looked at the British boy in surprise, but Allen wouldn't meet his eyes back.

"…Right..."

"What's going on?"  And now he was looking back to Lavi, that same rage back in his features.

"Al's being sent away.  Taking blood from someone when you're such a low rank is-"

"I offered it."  Welcome back, Silence.  Awkward stares, half-asses glares.

"What do you mean you  _offered_ it?"

"I told him to bite me—he looked like shit and said he needed blood."

"...And since when did you know he was a vampire?"

"Since this afternoon."

"How?"

"He-" a glance over to Allen, and hardening in his expression.  "…The creepy guy in his body told me."

"You're having trouble with him again?"  All eyes were on Allen now, and the Brit crumbled a bit under the pressure.

"It's... Nothing, really, I-"

"Al, if Nea's back, that's definitely  _something_!"

"W-we don't know if it's Nea!  It might be- might be, uh, j-just my vampire side!" 

"Al, you-"  before saying anything too big, Lavi turned back to Kanda.  The conflicting emotions running across his one green eye were apparent.

"Sorry, Yu, I need a second alone with Allen."  His eyes flashed, turned into an iridescent sea foam, and Kanda felt his own eyes widen.  He didn't know Lavi some weird, glowing eyeball power.

That reaction seemed to satisfy the redhead.  He turned back to Allen, blabbering on about some asshole name Nea who apparently was in Allen's body?  Kanda was only half following along since he was told to not listen.  Instead, he sipped absentmindedly at his juice.

Nightmares, family betrayal, bodily possession, testing the vampire turning process: Kanda couldn't help but to pay attention to that much. It was kind of interesting.  Apparently, some dog bite a few years ago transferred the virus to Allen?  But this Nea guy did some special bullshit to possess the dog?  And now he was aiming to possess Allen?  That was some fucked up shit.

The two eventually reached a small pause in their conversation, and Kanda took that as a cue to raise his voice.

"Hey, Sprout, can you get me another glass?"  He was holding out his cup innocently enough, but it snapped the two vampire's attention to him so violently that he would have thought he himself was a murderer.  He merely furrowed his brow at the men, unsure of what else to do.

"...Lavi, I thought-"

"I did."  Okay, so, no juice.  He took the cup back to himself, confused and a bit frustrated.

"Was I supposed to leave? You could have at least fucking told me."  That would have made a lot of sense if it wasn't for the fact that he could barely sit up right now.  

"...Yu, hold still."  

"Hold-" he silenced himself as a hand landed atop his thigh.  Kanda was seated legs outstretched with his back against the headboard, and Lavi was all the way at the foot of his bed a fraction of a second ago.  "H-how-" this time he was cut off by a kiss.  A kiss that he, once again, did not agree to.  Shocked and angry, he attempted to push Lavi away with one hand, the other gripping his glass.  He felt a lot like he did hours before.  

This sucked.

"Mm!  Mmmhmmhmm," but nothing he did would get Lavi off.  Allen was doing jack-shit, and this red-headed fucker was suddenly shoving his tongue past Kanda's lips.  No, oh no no no.  Not again.

"Lav-" Allen's warning came too late; Kanda had already crashed his glass against Lavi's head, using the distraction to push the guy away as he scrambled over to the other side of the bed, dizzy and a victim to terrible, shallow breathing.

Allen was trouble enough, but Lavi was just as strong if not stronger than him normally.  If he broke out into some crazy vampire assault-

"Kanda!  Kanda, calm down."  And now Allen was on his side, a hand on his shoulder and concern in his eyes.

"Calm down?  How do you expect... Me..."  He was panting now, the same pallor from earlier back with a vengeance.  He didn't let that stop him from glaring at the star-struck Lavi across his mattress.  "You bastard!"  He really was in no position to provoke another attack: half sucked dry, sitting in his underwear and a long, soft cardigan on the edge of his bed with nothing but a little Sprout to help him out.  That kind of disadvantage, however, never stopped him before.

"Yu, Yu calm down, I'm sorry.  I-"

"What the fuck are you doing?!  Don't come any closer!"  So Lavi stood still, his eye locked onto his panicked and disheveled friend.  

"Let me explain, alright?"

"You have exactly one minute."

"Saliva—vampires have special chemicals in their saliva.  It's like an opiate to humans.  Calms them, numbs them, makes them tired.  It also clots wounds. We use it to stop panicking and pain, but..."  He trailed off, and the sudden halting of his quick speech sat heavily over the room.  "You didn't... React to it...  _or_  the stare."

"...That weird shit you did with your eye?"

"Yeah, that."  Kanda was relaxed now.  That made sense, and it also explained why Allen... Nea?  was so intent on kissing him earlier.

"None of that does anything to me."

"I  _know_  it doesn't, Yu.  That's the problem."  Lavi took his friend's absent panic as an opportunity to circle around the mattress, the back of his hand brushing back Kanda's bangs in order to check his temperature.

It was obvious by his disposition that he trusted Lavi much more than he put on, and Allen watched the exchange in slight envy. He very obviously underestimated just how much faith the designer had in him as well.

"When you've regained your strength, I'm going to ask for a blood sample."  Of course, when you're a vampire, that sounds pretty suspicious, so Lavi immediately cleared up Kanda's dubious gaze.  "A scientific sample.  From a syringe."  A nod, and then the redhead was looking at Allen.  "Let's go get Yu some juice, alright?" 

 

"Some juice" entailed an hour-long interrogation about everything vampire-related.  In the end, Lavi wasn't happy with the results he received.  Allen seemed to be losing what consciousness he gained back from Nea, and that alone was scary.  To think of the repercussions it would have on the rest of the vampire world... That was terrifying.

"I can't believe this worked."  Lavi sat, his head in his hands, at the kitchen table while Allen fumbled around with the orange juice that should have been in to Kanda over and hour ago.

"I think, maybe, we should... We should..." He turned back to Lavi, a terribly sad expression on his face.  "Destroy the evidence."  Arms were around the boy in seconds, and a shaking, messed-up half breed was sobbing into the Pureblood's chest.

"Al, c'mon.  We're not killing you just because of this."

"But what if it happens to others?" Vampire-turning ceremonies were sacred, consensual exchanges of blood to and from both parties. This—this method that was used in desperation to turn Allen—could prove to be disastrous if used with malicious intentions.

A vampire, on the brink of death, could surpass it all just by using an animal as a middle stage, and not only turn a human, but also take them over.

"It won't.  We'll keep it under wraps.  We have for this long."  Voices soft, lightning dim, the two stood hugging for quite some time.  Ultimately, though, Allen's loathing won over the calm.

"I don't want to be a vampire anymore, Lavi."

"I know, Al.  I know."  Lavi's chin was on the little guy's shoulder, and his eye was staring blankly at the cream walls around them.  He knew Allen well—knew his dreams, his hopes, his intentions—but maybe even more so, he knew that feeling.

The desire to be human.

"Let's get this to Yu, okay?"  He _had_ been waiting an hour after all.  Allen smiled, squeezing that broad chest before him and humming out an agreement.

 

Considering it was well into the night by now, the fact that Kanda was asleep when they returned wasn't unexpected.  That meant his glass of juice had to be back into the fridge, though.  Lavi did that.  Allen stayed behind to watch over the little designer.

Delicately, he took the titled glasses from Kanda's face, setting them on the nearby nightstand.  The TV went off as well, and Allen was now sitting on the edge of the bed.  Before him lay a sweet and awful person.

Tentatively, he reached out a hand, fingers only lightly combing valleys through inky hair at first.  It was his right hand, the one that he could still feel through.  The human hand.  Well, somewhat human.

Even now, hours after his meal, Allen could tell he drank a bit too much.  Kanda was lucky to be alive right now, especially since he was apparently allergic to vampire spit.  The rash on his neck-

Wait.

Where was the rash?  

He was certain he bit Kanda's right shoulder, so where?

In the back of his head, he knew he should get Lavi, but he didn't.  He wanted one last moment alone together like this with Kanda.  If the higher ups caught wind of this, Allen might be pulled from his mission altogether.  With any luck, they'd just relocate him.

He didn't want to be relocated, though.  He wanted to be here, with Kanda.  Here in a stable life—a normal, human life.

Pale fingertips softly touched the little cotton bandage they had applied a short time before.  The tape was weak, so he had no problem easily peeling it off.  He expected to see two black dots staring back at him, but instead, there was nothing.

Kanda's wound was completely healed.

Now, vampire saliva did help clotting wounds, but he had never known it to make them heal so quickly.  It was odd enough to make Allen know he _needed_ to get Lavi.

 

The redhead didn't know what to make of it either.  In his decades of life, he'd never seen this happen once.  He had personally drawn from many men and women and everything in between, but Kanda's reaction was completely unique.

"I'll have Lenalee report this to the higher-ups."  Because he truly couldn't do much more than that.  There was nothing to do besides that.  Allen knew, but that doesn't mean he was happy about it.

This really could be the last time he ever saw Kanda.  Half-breeds like him weren't supposed to draw blood without Pureblood permission.  Not only did he not receive that, but Lavi even told him specifically not to target Kanda.  He was doomed.  

"Yeah, maybe they'll know what's happening..." Quite frankly, you'd have to be beyond dense to not notice the longing look behind those silver eyes, how they now dulled to a somber grey.

Lavi cared for Yu—cared for him as a best friend—even if they've only known each other for a few years.

He cared for Allen too, and although weeks prior to this, he thought he knew what was best for the both of them, now he wasn't so sure.

Actually, that's a lie.

He  _was_ sure—sure that his his previous thoughts on the matter were completely wrong.

He had some serious thinking to do, but for now, Allen needed a nap, and he needed to read up some more on rare case records.

 

Headquarters was an intimating place for most, but for Lenalee Lee it was merely another trip to see her brother at his job. Lavi had given her some rather interesting information recently, along with research and theories, and she was to report them all to Komui in a neat, organized manner.  

As intelligent as Lavi was, he sometimes failed to compile his thoughts in a way that made sense.

"Officer Lee, reporting for duty," she spoke with a salute that truly wasn't necessary, "sir."  The desk before her was cluttered in an assortment of documents and pens.  From behind it, popped the very familiar head of her dearest older brother, who was far too excited to see her.

"Lenalee!"  Formalities aside, he nearly leapt across his desk to give her a hug, squeezing her intensely and leaving her no choice but to squeeze back.

"Ah, brother, you really are a handful."  A sigh, a giggle, and the embrace was done.

"How are you feeling, Lenalee?"

"I keep telling you, I'm fine."  Untangling from the hug, she offered up both a smile and a manila folder.  "The vampire that attacked me didn't know what he was getting himself into."

"What's this?"  Happy she was alright, the man's dark eyes landed upon the files.  He took them jovially, and began to flip through.

"A new lead."

"Lead?"  A little nod, short green hair swishing in an adorable manner.  The determination behind her violet eyes, however, kept Komui from gushing out again.

"For the cure."

 

* * *

 

When Allen woke up, it was due to a disgusting lurch in his stomach.  He was off his bed in seconds, retching into a small wastebasket.  His throat felt like it was on fire, the sensation of sharp shrapnel mixed with sand tightening around his esophagus with every tightening of his chest.  

A puddle of spit sat at the bottom of the otherwise empty, plastic bag.  A few tears slipped down to join it, dully rippling the clouded surface, bubbling separately in it like water in oil.

He couldn't understand what was happening.  Everything in his body felt like it was being twisted and turned.  Even his bones ached.

His bones especially ached.  

Yet he could do no more than dry heave into this basket and hope for the best.  After strictly months on the high-strength supplements, it was no wonder that a large dose of real, fresh, human blood was making him react this way, but something was still  _off._

If it was really Kanda's blood upsetting his stomach, why couldn't he just throw it up?

Was it simply because his body was too starved? 

In all honesty, it didn't matter why.  It mattered that he was now stuck here, for a collective few hours before he was finally able to stand without spitting up absolutely nothing but spit.

He took the opportunity to down two whole bottles of water, nearly wobbling on his way back to his bedroom.  Maybe he should visit Lavi.  The Pureblood would know what to do.

Baggy jeans, an over-sized hoodie, and sneakers: Allen wasn't going out today.  Not after waking up like that.  

He shuffled out of his apartment, fully intending to head down to Lavi's floor when suddenly, a familiar scent came to his attention.  

Well, more like it hit him like a wall.

He turned his head, the scent of blood seeping through Kanda's door.  Maybe it was from just throwing up, or maybe it was because he just drank a few hours ago, but for once, Allen wasn't hungry.  No, he was scared.  A primal instinct enveloped him; he sensed danger.  A dread in the air.  Yesterday he thought he had resolved to not speak to the designer until the reports went through.  He couldn't face the man with the threat of being pulled away at any second looming over him, but now... Now he didn't have a choice.

"Kanda!  Kanda!"  And he was knocking on the door, panicked.  He heard swearing, shuffling.  He sighed, feeling disappointment in his own cowardice.  Stepping back, he took in a deep breath as the door opened.

Only, it was Lavi, not Kanda that answered.

"A-Al!"

"L-Lavi," slow steps back, eyes widened in horror.  Allen stared up at the redhead,  _terrified_.

Terrified of the smudged red stain on his bottom lip.

He looked confused.  Confused as if he didn't know exactly why Allen was locked onto his lips.

The Pureblood raised a hand, touched the stain, and seemed to suddenly realize everything.

"Al, A-Al wait, it's not what you-"

"You're going to kill him!"  He tried to rush through the door, but the taller vampire held him back, held him at bay.

"Al!  Just calm down!  I'm-"

"Don't touch me!  You know if you take more blood so soon-"

"Al!"

"Beansprout?"  Like a kick to a row of dominos, Kanda's head suddenly popping up behind Lavi's shoulder nearly had Allen toppling over.  Thankfully, the redhead had a firm grip on his shoulders. 

Ignoring the tears in those silver eyes, Lavi gave Allen a reassuring grin.  "Let me explain."

 

"So you think he's somehow blessed by a..."

"A Shtriga!"  Lavi, animatedly hopped around, switching between taking swabs of Allen's tongue and Kanda's tongue.  The designer didn't seem to mind, too busy trying to hide the fact that he was half-staring at Allen.

"And that means?"

"Shtriga, or I guess, in Yu's case-" a low growl from said man "Shtrigu are these terrible, scary old people who walk around and transform people into vampires!"  And of course, what was a demonstration without over-exaggerated motions and generally stupid expressions?

“Kanda might be as grumpy as an old man, but I don't-” the pillow and several curses thrown at him only made him laugh, sticking his tongue out defiantly at a pissed-off fashion designer.

“No, no, I'm not saying Yu” Kanda had just given up at this point “ _is_ one, I'm saying he was given one's powers.”

"So... He turns people into vampires?"  The "spooky" spidering of Lavi's fingers halted, and he let out a laugh.

"I'm not sure!  He's never tried to suck anyone's blood out, believe it or not!" Tapping his chin, tilting his head to the side, he looked to Kanda as if asking for permission. The shrug he received in return was as good as a yes. “Kanda said a girl who was rumored to be a spirit orphanage once blessed him. Usually, Shtriga aren't so friendly, so I doubted it at first, but this will be the ultimate test!” His index finger tapped playfully at his lips before abruptly whipping away from his face. This time, he pointed to Allen in a burst of excitement.  "But!  You already kissed  _him_  and sucked  _his_  blood!"

"I... Did... So?"

"You look like shit today!"

"L-Lavi!"

"What happened when you woke up?"

"I..." A glance between the two men.  Kanda was sitting on the other side of the couch, doing the same as Allen, and Lavi was excitedly bursting on the floor before them.  "Dry heaved... For a long time."

"And how hungry are you right now?"  He wiggled his brows and gestured over to Kanda, who was currently rubbing his wrist, the small bandage there rather itchy.  He seemed irritated, but anyone would in a room full of asshole vampires who were talking about you as if you were food.

"I'm not hungry at all!  I told you, I nearly threw up toda-"

"Extend your fangs, Allen!"  A silence suddenly engulfed the room.  Seconds ticked by.  Three eyes locked onto the Brit, and he suddenly felt pinned up on some display case.

"I..."  Desperate, confused, shocked, a hand came up to feel at his cheeks.  Wide eyes looked to Lavi, then to Kanda.  "I can't." 

"Precisely!  Not only does a Shtriga have the ability to make vampires, apparently if they spit in their mouth, they can cure them too!"

"C-cu... 'Cure'?!"

"Yeah!  I'm absolutely certain you're in the process of being healed!  Since I already kissed Yu yesterday, but I'm still a vampire, I think it has something to do with a combination of both blood drinking and saliva!" Part of Lavi knew that later on, he was going to get infinite loads of shit for letting the organization's secret weapon go, but after last night—after hearing the despair and longing in Allen's voice as he sought to be human—Lavi decided that even if he could have gone back and prevented this, he wouldn't have done it.

Allen was currently confused—overwhelmed and confused.  There's no way... So easily?  Impossible.  

"Either that or it's because I'm a Pureblood... I'm not sure yet!  That's why I took a tiny sample from Yu's wrist!" 

His hands dug themselves into the material of his pull-over hoodie, trying to feel for a heartbeat, for anything to show he had actually changed.

"If I start throwing up soon, we'll know why!"  Even the sunny laughter from Lavi didn't break him from his trance. Everything else seemed to fade.  He couldn't believe it—believe his own warmth—believe the ability to breathe somewhere with blood still in the air.

Concrete, pulling him back to reality, a hand was on his shoulder.  He jolted up, frightened, but when he looked, it was just Kanda.

Kanda, who was sitting much closer than earlier now.  

Yet before he could speak, another hand was on his cheek, tilting his head up slightly, and their lips were meeting. 

Thick black lashes drooped over blue eyes before him, and Allen felt his nerves suddenly freeze.

The melting sensation that followed was one of the most pleasant he had ever felt in his life.

He tenderly placed both of his own hands on the designer's chest as their gentle kiss continued.  Normally contact right after a burst of anxiety spelled nothing but panic, but the way Kanda was pulling him closer was producing quite the opposite.

The embrace might have gone of for minutes, maybe hours longer if it hadn't been for a certain redhead awkwardly clearing his throat.  Allen jumped, and Kanda took that as his cue to slowly pull away.  

"Back on planet Earth with us, Beansprout?"  He was trying to smirk—that was easy to tell—but instead treated the Brit to front row seats of a genuine, mirthful smile.  

"I-I..." And he felt his own cheeks begin to flush, eyes now going back and forth between Kanda's beautiful expression and Lavi's knowing grin.  He just wanted to die.  "Ugh!"  And now both hands were on his face, and the other two occupants were laughing.  The moment was light and beautiful, and even as Allen found himself withering in embarrassment, he too was laughing.  

Soft, like three souls pattering their wings.

And like the soft hits against the wind as they land, their laughter faded to silence.

Not uncomfortable, not friendly, just silence.

Like the calm before a storm silence.

Silence that was suddenly disrupted by a knocking at the door.  

Yet it wasn't Kanda's door, but instead the neighbor's.  Two questioning glances traveled to Allen, but he could only produced a bewildered shrug back.

 

* * *

 

Panic.  That was certainly the most poignant thing in Lenalee's mind.  How anyone could get coordinates on one of their agents, she had no idea.  She was running, now, though, unable to do anything but watch as images of her dear friends being torn apart flash before her eyes.  Lavi was strong, sure, but Allen was just a rookie.  Kanda wasn't even a vampire. She had to get there before he did.  She just  _had_ to.

It was only blocks away now.  Lavi was wrong to suggest Allen for this job.  She knew the moment she meant him he wasn't strong enough, wasn't immersed enough into their system to succeed. Like with everyone, she did her best to give him the benefit of the doubt, but even if he _was_ their only option left, he was under-qualified at best.

A block now.  She could make it if she sprinted.  

Loaded gun in hand, nothing but determination in her heart, Lenalee Lee nearly shattered as a large figure abruptly shot out of the, what was that, 8th floor?

She screamed in time to see the body land one a nearby truck, smashing the hood in completely.  Panic nearly flew her over, and she was scaling the car to help the victim—Lavi—in no time.  He seemed to be struggling to say something, fingers barely twitching as an unfocused eye looked blearily up to the shattered glass frame.  

"Al... And Yu..."  He coughed, but Lenalee was gone, leaving the redhead to heal on his own.  Vampires were rather good at regeneration after all.  For now, she, a human trained for years in keeping vampire order, had to help her friends.

 

Everything had happened in a flash.  Lavi had peeked a head out to ask what was wrong, nearly flew back in after slamming shut and locking the door, and began to usher both Allen and Kanda to the bedroom.  The knocking picked up again, this time on  _their_  door, and Lavi had barely gotten the two inside (with growled out protests and angry questions) before the wood was kicked in, splintering chips everywhere and covering the carpeted floor in a ugly bloom of brown.  

Laughter.  A dark tone.  A sudden, all-engulfing smell of cigarette smoke.

"Long time no see, Eyepatch."  And there, before him in all of his sharp-dressed, Portuguese glory, was one of the most prominent members of the Noah.  A brief pause as Lavi steeled his nerves.  Allen drinking Kanda's blood still didn't affect him for a few hours.  He wasn't even a Pureblood, either.  Either way, the redhead should have plenty of time for this.

Unless, of course, the reaction only came faster to those with higher ranks.

He didn't have time to think pessimistically right now; he managed a half-hearted laugh, an anxious grin.

"Maybe we should have kept it a little longer," Lavi was immediately in a defensive stance.  He couldn't win in a one-on-one fight with a Noah—even as a Pureblood, he was outranked—but with any luck he could lead the man away from the _two_ humans in the bedroom right behind him and get some help.

"I'm hurt, really," tan hands came down to dust off the white fabric of his shirt, and he glanced around the already wrecked apartment before landing once more on Lavi.  "What, does your lover live here or something?"

"Lover?"  He would have laughed if he wasn't terrified.  "I wouldn't say that."  Despite his defensive stance, he began to creep forward, cool and cautious.  The other man could only smirk, refusing to budge.  

"Well, the boy lives right next door, right?  What, another ally?  Back up?"  Cracked knuckles, cracked neck, "The boy's lover?"  

"Pretty sure Al's not in that kind of relationship either."

"You still think of him as Allen Walker?  You  _do_ have too much hope for him."  Despite Lavi's effort, the Noah hadn't moved, merely standing there, sweeping back his black, curly hair.

"Believe it or not, it's just two humans.  Smell the air, Tyki."

"Are you honestly trying to back me out?  You?"  Shit—their conversation completely flopped.  Lavi was still now, stuck in place, terrified but playing it off with a grin. 

"You  _seriously_ want to fight in this cramped place?  Can't we take this-" before he could blink, a hand was around his skull, and he was being thrown back with such a great force that he must have looked like a rag doll.  His head cracked into the same door he was guarding earlier.  The worst part is that he made a much better projectile than he did a shield.  There was a gaping hole in the white wood, a voice calling to him from the other side of it.

A very familiar, light tenor with the cutest hint of a British accent.

Now, finally, Tyki strolled in, clicking his tongue.

"How awful.  You lied to me; I can't believe it."  He stopped his intimidating stroll only when the faint annoyance of a yapping reached his ears.  He looked to the side, now smirking.  "And he has a  _dog._ How precious."  The moment he turned to the little creature in the rather large and luxuriously furnished cage, however, would prove fatal.  

The door was open in a split second, Lavi falling like a dead weight on the floor.  Behind Tyki now stood who he could only identify as a human, judging by the scent.  

"Do  _not_ touch the dog."  Oh, wow, today was just a field trip, now wasn't it?  He laughed, shook his head, and turned. Some man, his haired tied back in a casual ponytail and his body covered in delicate, pristine, yet casual clothing was facing him, and so was the tip of a rather impressive-looking single-edged sword.

"Ah, I'm supposed to be intimidated, correct?"  But when he turned completely, the blade was directly against his throat. He almost faltered, almost lost the confidence that he usually exuded at the sight of those glowing, azure eyes.  They almost looked white.  It was quite the impressive sight.

Instead, he grinned, a hand coming up to delicately rest against the dull side of the katana.

"Hello, Mr. Kitchen Knife.  I presume this place is yours?"

"And you're stinking it up."  A swing, too fast for a normal human, and Tyki was barely able to dodge—less from inability and more from surprise.  He was fast and skilled, even though he was wielding what appeared to be an antique.  The two sparred, going back and forth and back and forth. Into the kitchen, a two-man parade of slashes, hits, dodging.

Allen might have gone mad from his own bottomless uselessness if it wasn't for Lavi's sudden stumble back up, suddenly coughing, hands at his throat.  His legs could barely support him, but Allen was there to lift him the rest of the way.

"Y-Yu! Yu, you can't win, you have to-" another fit of wheezes and gasps.  Mismatched hands scrambled to catch his pathetic display, but after a particularly loud crash from the kitchen.  Tyki was back, and he was looking more pissed than ever.

"Using these pathetic people as your shields won't stop me," for the first time in  his entire life, Allen wished he had the powers that came with being a vampire again.  Before he could even cry out, a sound kick to Lavi's chest propelled the man out the window in the bedroom.  The Brit screamed, only to have his neck snatched by the Noah before him.  "Nea."  He couldn't breath, could only struggle and claw and kick as he was lifted.  

Noah were a completely different type of vampire.  Essentially, the strongest Purebloods imaginable.  A family of the oldest vampires still alive.  

The vampire that took over his body—the vampire that broke from the required ceremony of blood pacts and consent that came with a transformation— _Nea_ was one of them.

It's the only reason Allen was assigned to pursuing Tyki; he was the only vampire strong enough on their side to dent the man. 

"How does it feel?  Tell me."  The grip tightened.  Allen would start slipping any second.  "Knowing you killed half of our family?  Know that you had to forcibly possess a pathetic human _child_ just to escape the consequences of your own inane actions?"  There was murder in his glowing gold eyes, but Allen couldn't say anything.   Not only was his throat constricted, but his other half, Nea, hadn't been able to speak since after he got sick.

Tyki was unknowingly talking to just another human.

Tyki was unknowingly  _killing_ just another human.  

Not that he would mind the second part—seeing as that was his strategy for drawing Allen out anyway.  If he committed so many unauthorized kills in a public area, the organization would have no choice but to send their black lamb under a white coat to the slaughter.  

Now, the lamb couldn't even squeal, lashes shower fluttering in a show of a soul escaping, the death of Hope in his eyes.

“Honestly, getting so upset at the Noah just for killing your lover by mistake?” The grip was getting tighter and tighter. “Wasn't it all a bit _much_?”

An extra crunch and it would all be over, but the only sound that met his ears was a squelch, followed by a panting he had somehow missed earlier.  His fingers twitched, Allen was dropped from his hand, and the new focus in his field of vision was a silver sliver slipping through his stomach from behind.  

The pain was excruciating, but he was a vampire.  This was nothing as far as permanent injury went.

"And here I thought I killed you."  He sighed, a cacophony of coughs erupting before him as he turned to deliver a swift kick to the man, barely held up on his knees, behind him.  Honestly, the mess of bloody hair and red-stained clothes shouldn't be alive; he could have sworn his skull was cracked open against the kitchen counter.  "Pity you couldn't just use your second chance to run."  Reaching back with a click of his tongue, one eye closed in pain, he slid the blade out as best as possible, wounds closing almost instantly.  His shirt was ruined now, though.  How annoying.  

Clothes aside,  he tossed the blade down at the designer's side, watching and listening as his chest struggled to rise and fall further.  He was one his side, hair clumped with blood and spread around him.  He was  _still_ alive.  Struggling, but alive. Whatever, that wasn't important.  He wasn't even moving at this point.  Tyki needed to focus on what was important.

Nea was here—before him at this very moment.  He wouldn't miss this opportunity.

"Seems Allen Walker has some pretty loyal,  _foolish_  friends."  A low hum vibrated in his throat as he turned.  He decided to crouch down to Allen's level, watching as the boy gasped for air still, eyes struggling to see past Tyki to Kanda.  Lavi would be just fine—even a half breed could survive a fall like that.  From what he knew, though, Kanda's body was just like a human's.

In the Noah's opinion, his fearful gazes where only missing the real problem here.  In the end, Nea's human host was just as foolish as the man he just knocked the shit out of.

"Shame I couldn't get to know you better, really.  You seem like a decent guy."  Nimble, tan fingers gripped into the fabric of Allen's hoodie, gold eyes glowing.  "Now, let Nea come out to play.  You have no place here anymore."  Terror quickly morphed into the most intimidating face Allen had ever pulled.

"He's... Not here anymore!"  Hoarse, scratchy, his voice came in and out, but Tyki only chuckled.  He wouldn't buy such an obvious lie.  

"It's nothing personal, boy," his hand shifted, grabbing Allen's jaw with an abusive force.  "I just need to see N-" the moment crumbled as soon as a choked gasp escaped his tan lips. Eyes wide, his head slowly turned down, pinpoint-pupils fixated on the wound he had received earlier from the designer. The sudden rush of pain was not only unexpected but also seemingly without a cause.

All contact with Allen ended, and he stumbled backwards, all semblance of any earlier charm and confidence leaving him as he felt around desperately on his stomach. This pain—this pain was so _intense_. His mind was filled with static, hands twitching as they tried to ground themselves by gripping the fabric of his dress shirt.

It was all for nothing. A hiss left his lips, and he tried to stand.

Nea could wait.

He knew where to find him, knew his friends, his associates; tracking him down once more would be child's play.

Allen was left panting and coughing on the ground, trying to find it in himself to move. The last time he felt this weak was during his transformation. He almost wanted it back.

Tyki should have been his main focus, but between glancing to the window and staring over at the slumped form that was Kanda, he decided that the Noah could definitely fall on his list of priorities.

Panic, terror, pain—the moment was in slow-motion.

Tyki finally stood.

Kanda began to push himself off of the ground.

Allen reached out to him.

A bullet whizzed through the apartment.

Lenalee shouted from the doorway, and soon a net was over the Noah's form. Allen tried to speak, tried to form words, tried to explain to the officer shaking his shoulder, but a look over at Kanda, now awake and breathing if only barely, put his mind to rest. The last thing he saw was that small little puppy licking at Kanda's hand, and that was such a pleasant note to pass out on.

 

* * *

 

When Allen next regained consciousness, he could see only white walls, white sheets, white tiles, white sunlight. He saw white, heard a constant, steady beeping, and breathed in cool air. Tired, silver eyes searched around, and he found that the cream curtains, drawn back to let in the sun, were billowing so beautifully that he couldn't help but to feel entranced by them.

Birds—he could hear birds too. It was almost as if he was waking up to a whole new world, to a whole new person, to a whole new _life_.

How long he stayed in that state of wonder—looking at the less-than pure white curtains dancing around in the new light—was a mystery even to him, but the only thing that could bring him out of it was a light knock on the door. For the first time, Allen registered that he was laying down, but trying to sit up only made him dizzy. Instead, he croaked out a “come in” as the door was already in progress of opening.

The blond seemed surprised to receive any type of response, much less to see the patient to try sit up after days of inactivity.

“Please, Walker, don't push yourself.” Calm steps over, a few buttons pushed, and suddenly Allen was rising. Well, his bed was, at least. That certainly took much less effort than his previous attempts.

“Ah, can I...” and he watched as the nurse adjusted the IV he was apparently hooked up to. “Can I ask where I am? And who you are?” His memory was fuzzy—in fact, the last thing he remembered was... was...

“Wh-where's Lavi? Lenalee? Is Kanda okay? Where-”

“Walker, please,” a gentle yet firm hand was placed on his chest, and he was softly pushed back into the now mostly vertical section of his bed.

“But-”

“You're at a hospital. A small hospital specifically run for vampire and lycan kind.” Even while explaining, the nurse continued to adjust some equipment, jot down some notes, and set aside some medicine. “You suffered some minor injuries, but you've been asleep for a few days now. I'd expect no less than exhaustion after having most of your vampire DNA eliminated from your body.” Okay. Yeah, that was definitely too much information too quickly. He just woke up from his brain being fried; couldn't this guy talk a bit slower?

“...Most of it?”

A sigh followed. “Yes, well, they'll explain this all later, I'm sure, but your friend, Kanda Yu, he had the blessings of a Shtriga.” Now done with his work, the nurse seemed hesitant to stay much longer, but easily lost that train of thought when he saw the impossibly inquisitive gaze Allen was sending his way. “Basically... A mix of his saliva and his blood can cure vampirism from even Purebloods. Your friend Lavi-” once more he was pushing Allen to relax, “who is _fine_ by the way, proved that. He barely had enough time to heal before his DNA was also altered. In fact, his arm is still broken.” Allen supposed it could have been a lot worse, but he still exuded a strong message of guilt. His brain was slowly but surely beginning to work again. He needed to wake up enough to remember all of this.

A hand traveled up to his neck, feeling the bruised skin with a slightly pained expression. The nurse seemed to notice, and he took the burden upon himself to speak more, to try and get the British boy's thoughts off of the matter at hand.

“However, even though you're a half-breed, because a Noah bypassed the consent contract by transferring his soul into a dog and then into you, it seems that you weren't fully healed.” That had the opposite of his desired effect. Allen's face morphed into an unmistakable dread, and he looked ready to cry.

“So... I'm still a vampire?”

“No, not quite.” Great, now he had to placate the kid. “It's more like... you have the genes still, but the actual cells that vampires have to break down hemoglobin into higher nutrition have become mostly dormant. They may awaken more over time, but they may also die completely. On top of that... we have no way of knowing what became of Nea's soul or how it will affect your quality of life.” A quick adjustment of his thick-rimmed glasses, and a skeptical glance with his intense, crimson eyes. “If ever the issue should arrive again where you have the same vampire urges, then you are under command to drink from Kanda Yu once more.” An almost comfortable quiet settled in, and the nurse turned to leave, but yet again, was stopped by Allen's voice.

“So Kanda is okay?” A pause. “What about Lenalee? Tyki?”

“'Tyki?'” That judging look was back. “Kanda is fine, Ms. Lee sustained no injuries at all, and Tyki is still a vampire, but he's suffering from somehow circulating Kanda's blood through his system.”

“He bit Kanda?”

“No, actually, we believe it was due to Kanda Yu's blood being on the weapon that pierced Tyki's stomach.” Allen was definitely happy he was getting answers, and felt much more at ease, but he wondered just where the confidentiality border lay.

“So... where is Tyki now? What's going to happen to him?”

“Sorry, Walker, that information is strictly confidential.” _Ah, there it was._

“Well, can you at least tell me your name?” Since he was a fairly new entrant in the world-wide government-run vampire organization, he learned not to let confidentiality deter him anymore.

“My name? I'm Howard Link, your nurse.” He nodded formally before making his way to the door. “By the way, Walker,” a hand on the exit, he looked back to the patient with a sigh. “I hope you don't mind visitors. You certainly have a flood of them.”

 

* * *

 

It was a few days later, out in the suburbs and in a large, luxurious villa. The sun was setting, and the breeze was warm. Summer would fade soon, and fall would roll in with a calm, crisp air and a slew of new opportunities. The sheer amount of jobs he was offered was almost scary, but in the end, he was content with staying to be the piano player at a local high-end bar. The pay was great, and the vacation days were flexible, which was why he could be here now, sitting in the private garden and overlooking a koi pond, admiring the lotus leaves that rose above the water.

His piano-playing ability was only one of the many new aspects of himself that he's grown to love now that fighting Nea wasn't always in the forefront of his mind. It was more like a peaceful partnership at this point, and the other soul residing inside him was almost always dormant. In fact, that's all he asked from Allen: to be able to play the piano.

To play a requiem for his past love.

The human received the best deal of his life.

How long had it been? How long had it been since Allen could stand under the sun without pain and irritation? How long had it been since he could stare down into a pond like this and see his own reflection stare back. The marred, tattoo-covered scar, the white hair, the pale skin, the mercury eyes—he was thankful for every freakish feature. Thankful for being able to be himself once more.

With a mirthful laugh, his eyes suddenly left the pond to fixate on his small, golden corgi. Timcampy was dancing around, nudging his hand and demanding to be adored, so Allen did what he could and pet the fuzzy little ball of energy. Tim had been nearly attached to his side ever since he was released from the hospital, so he expected as much. What he didn't expect, however, was the two extra sets of paws on his other leg. He looked over, and surely enough, Golem was practically digging at his lap, but the large husky was merely tapping him with his paws, blue eyes level with Allen's.

“What, what? You want attention too?” He didn't have three hands, but he did his best to alternate, eventually unintentionally inciting a little competitive play session between Tim and Golem, while Mugen merely mercilessly licked at his cheek. With the Brit laughing so adorably, though, it was no wonder why Kanda had to make his way out to the private garden to take a peek at what was going on.

“Trying to steal away my dogs, I see.” Three sets of ears perked up in an impossibly cute manner. Allen let out a few more giggles as he turned to face their new guest.

Well, truly, Allen was the guest here.

“Mm, just maybe, _BaKanda_.” He stuck his tongue out, sliding it back in just in time to be drowned once more in another session of husky kisses.

“Looks more like they're trying to steal you, _Moyashi_.” A few simple Japanese words taught to Allen, and of course the two only used the insults. That didn't stop Kanda from taking a seat on the other side of Allen, only to soon be drowned in little puppy kisses and a husky stepping on the Brit's legs to reach his owner's face. They were both laughing now, soon easily knocked over by the excited husky, and at the mercy of three jovial dogs.

The sky was pink before the little pets finally became disinterested enough to paw at the surface of the pond rather than their owners, and both the pianist and the designer lay on the ground, catching their breath after such a long session of laughter. Hand in hand, they did their best to look across to the other and glare, but each time there was a twitch, a melt, and suddenly a grin, a smile. Still determined though, Kanda brought his elbow up to nudge at Allen's side. It was reciprocated from a similar nudge from the Brit.

After so many bumps and prods and chuckles, the two ended up laying on their sides, nose-to-nose, and bickering out meaningless insults at each other.

“Short-shit.”

“Thick-skull.”

“Pipsqueak.”

“Brick wall.”

“Beansprout.”

“Idiot.” They kissed, the scent of freshly-cut grass right beneath them and the wet evening dew already soaking at the sides of their clothing. The only thing they remained aware of, however, was each other, and admittedly, that lead them to getting a bit closer.

Much closer when Allen was suddenly pulled atop the designer. The moment was completely intimate—isolated and private and loving.

Because of that, however, the two were utterly shocked when a whistle suddenly sounded out from the back porch. Kanda's adoptive brother, Daisya, sat in his wheelchair, a smug expression on his face as he watched the two jump and scramble around. Allen rolled off, sat up, face red, and scooped up his dog quickly, hoping to somehow hide his embarrassment with Tim's companionship. Kanda, on the other hand, adjusted his low ponytail, snarling and managing to stand up once more without any unfortunate grass stains before beginning to march over, fully intending to kick his brother's ass.

“Hey, c'mon c'mon, I was only having fun. You wouldn't hit a guy in a wheelchair, would you?” Arrogant laughter followed, and it was all Allen could do to not encourage his boyfriend to completely beat Daisya up. “Geez, geez, you'd think you two would learn how to take a joke after all this time,” he rolled his eyes just before getting a flick to the forehead from Kanda.

“You asshole, we were in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, I know. If I would have taken any longer, _you_ would have been in the middle of _him_.”

“Why you-”

“C'mon, Kanda, no murdering me yet! I have a big game coming up I have to coach; you know that!” But his brother's gaze didn't waver, and soon two silver eyes joined to rip him apart as well. He could only sigh, scratching at his tan cheek in exasperation. “If you won't do it for me, at least save the murder for tomorrow for Tiedoll's sake. He's so proud your first line caught on so well.” Daisya's eyes landed briefly upon Allen. He was proud about him too, but that was far too obvious with how many pictures Tiedoll had already taken of the two. “He asked me to come out and get you guys for dinner.”

“...I told him he didn't have to cook for us...”

“That's just how he is.” And the focus shifted to Kanda's other adopted brother, Marie. Cane in hand, he offered a smile as he tapped the plastic across the porch on his way to them.

“Tch, I _know_. I hate it so much.”

“We know, Kanda, we know.”

“You can't deprive him of a family dinner with his son's new boyfriend, though, can you?” The slight tease in Marie's voice made Kanda's blood boil, but it's not as if the African-Austrian man could see his enraged expression.

“Whatever.” Yet despite Kanda's anger, the hand on Allen's shoulder was anything but rough, and he was even polite as he ushered his shorter boyfriend inside, where Tiedoll immediately began to gush over the couple. Kanda was utterly dismayed, but Allen couldn't help but to feel like today was the best day of his life—yet hopefully, and it was very likely to be true, tomorrow would be even better.

Every day from now on—it was all just going to be better.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claps hands together! Alright, that's done. I really didn't want to make anyone out as a bad person? I truly hope it felt like both Nea and Tyki were justified aaaaa,,, If you guys have any questions, feel free to ask them by the way. I know this had a lot of plot.  
> Additionally! I actually have quite a lot written for the next chapter. It's an Alpha-Beta-Omega AU, but I'm completely stumped on where to take it, since I almost never outline my work. On the other hand, I did start to write up the outline for an angst-filled Soulmate AU, so I really don't know what will come next. Maybe I'll even make the soulmate AU into it's own chapter fic? Not sure, not sure~. Hopefully you guys enjoyed though! I appreciate any kudos or comments, and like always, you're all free to contact me on twitter or tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> You can leave suggestions if you like. Comment or just send me a quick message on twitter (@PerspicAicious) or tumblr (hiei700). I'll try my best to incorporate anything suggested, but I can't promise that I'll do everything.


End file.
